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"  Father  Esteban  pulled  out  his  snuff-box  and  took  a  long  and  complacer 
pinch."  — Page  103. 


THE 


CRUSADE  OF  THE  EXCELSIOR 


BY 


BRET  HARTE 


BOSTON  AND  NEW  YORK 
HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY 


1887 


Copyright,  1887, 
Bv  BRET  HARTE. 

All  rights  reserved. 


The  Riverside  Press,  Cambridge : 
Electrotyped  and  Printed  by  H.  O.  Houghton  &  Co. 


CONTENTS. 


PART   I.  —  IN   BONDS. 

PAGE 


CHAPTER  I. 
A  CRUSADER  AND  A  SIGN 


CHAPTER  II. 

ANOTHER  PORTENT 


CHAPTER  III. 

"VlGILANCIA"  ..................     26 

CHAPTER  IV. 
IN  THE  FOG      ..................    38 

CHAPTER  V. 
TODOS  SANTOS     .................    5° 

CHAPTER  VI. 
"  HAIL  AND  FAREWELL  "  ..............    63 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  GENTLE  CASTAWAYS     .............    75 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
IN  SANCTUARY      .................    88 

CHAPTER  IX. 
AN  OPEN-AIR  PRISON  ...............  100 

CHAPTER  X. 
TODOS  SANTOS  SOLVES  THE  MYSTERY   .........  112 

CHAPTER  XI. 
THE  CAPTAIN  FOLLOWS  HIS  SHIP     ..........  126 


iv  Contents. 

PART   II.  — FREED. 

CHAPTER  I. 
THE  MOURNERS  AT  SAN  FRANCISCO 138 

CHAPTER  II. 
THE  MOURNERS  AT  TODOS  SANTOS 153 

CHAPTER  III. 
INTERNATIONAL  COURTESIES 165 

CHAPTER  IV. 
A  GLEAM  OF  SUNSHINE 177 

CHAPTER  V. 
CLOUDS  AND  CHANGE 192 

CHAPTER  VI. 
A  MORE  IMPORTANT  ARRIVAL 205 

CHAPTER  VII. 
THE  RETURN  OF  THE  EXCELSIOR 217 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
HOSTAGE 230 

CHAPTER  IX. 
LIBERATED 243 


Crosafce  of  tye 

PART  I.     IN  BONDS. 
CHAPTER  I. 

A   CRUSADER   AND   A   SIGN. 

IT  was  the  4th  of  August,  1854,  off  Cape  Corrientes. 
Morning  was  breaking  over  a  heavy  sea,  and  the  closely- 
reefed  topsails  of  a  barque  that  ran  before  it  bearing 
down  upon  the  faint  outline  of  the  Mexican  coast.  Al- 
ready the  white  peak  of  Colima  showed,  ghost-like,  in  the 
east ;  already  the  long  sweep  of  the  Pacific  was  gathering 
strength  and  volume  as  it  swept  uninterruptedly  into  the 
opening  Gulf  of  California. 

As  the  cold  light  increased,  it  could  be  seen  that  the 
vessel  showed  evidence  of  a  long  voyage  and  stress  of 
weather.  She  had  lost  one  of  her  spars,  and  her  star- 
board davits  rolled  emptily.  Nevertheless,  her  rigging 
was  taut  and  ship-shape,  and  her  decks  scrupulously 
clean.  Indeed,  in  that  uncertain  light,  the  only  moving 
figure  besides  the  two  motionless  shadows  at  the  wheel 
was  engaged  in  scrubbing  the  quarter-deck  —  which,  with 
its  grated  settees  and  stacked  camp-chairs,  seemed  to 
indicate  the  presence  of  cabin  passengers.  For  the 
barque  Excelsior,  from  New  York  to  San  Francisco,  had 
discharged  the  bulk  of  her  cargo  at  Callao,  and  had  ex- 
tended her  liberal  cabin  accommodation  to  swell  the 
feverish  Californian  immigration,  still  in  its  height. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  slight  commotion  on  deck.     An 


2  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

order,  issued  from  some  invisible  depth  of  the  cabin,  was 
so  unexpected  that  it  had  to  be  repeated  sternly  and 
peremptorily.  A  bustle  forward  ensued,  two  or  three 
other  shadows  sprang  up  by  the  bulwarks,  then  the  two 
men  bent  over  the  wheel,  the  Excelsior  slowly  swung 
round  on  her  heel,  and,  with  a  parting  salutation  to  the 
coast,  bore  away  to  the  northwest  and  the  open  sea 
again. 

"What's  up  now?"  growled  one  of  the  men  at  the 
wheel  to  his  companion,  as  they  slowly  eased  up  on  the 
helm. 

"  'T  ain't  the  skipper's,  for  he 's  drunk  as  a  biled  owl, 
and  ain't  stirred  out  of  his  bunk  since  eight  bells,"  said 
the  other.  "  It 's  the  first  mate's  orders  ;  but,  I  reckon, 
it 's  the  Senor's  idea." 

"  Then  we  ain't  goin'  on  to  Mazatlan  ? " 

"  Not  this  trip,  I  reckon,"  said  the  third  mate,  joining 
them. 

"  Why  ? " 

The  third  mate  turned  and  pointed  to  leeward.  The 
line  of  coast  had  already  sunk  enough  to  permit  the  faint 
silhouette  of  a  trail  of  smoke  to  define  the  horizon  line  of 
sky. 

"  Steamer  goin'  in,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes.     D'  ye  see  —  it  might  be  too  hot,  in  there  ! " 

"Then  the  jig 'sup?" 

"  No.  Suthin  's  to  be  done  —  north  of  St.  Lucas. 
Hush ! " 

He  made  a  gesture  of  silence,  although  the  conversa- 
tion, since  he  had  joined  them,  had  been  carried  on  in  a 
continuous  whisper.  A  figure,  evidently  a  passenger, 
had  appeared  on  deck.  One  or  two  of  the  foreign-look- 
ing crew  who  had  drawn  near  the  group,  with  a  certain 
undue  and  irregular  familiarity,  now  slunk  away  again. 

The  passenger  was  a  shrewd,  exact,  rectangular-looking 


A  Crusader  and  a  Sign.  3 

man,  who  had  evidently  never  entirely  succumbed  to  the 
freedom  of  the  sea  either  in  his  appearance  or  habits. 
He  had  not  even  his  sea  legs  yet  j  and  as  the  barque,  with 
the  full  swell  of  the  Pacific  now  on  her  weather  bow, 
was  plunging  uncomfortably,  he  was  fain  to  cling  to  the 
stanchions.  This  did  not,  however,  prevent  him  from 
noticing  the  change  in  her  position,  and  captiously  resent- 
ing it. 

"Look  here — you;  I  say!  What  have  we  turned 
round  for  ?  We  're  going  away  from  the  land  !  Ain't  we 
going  on  to  Mazatlan  ? " 

The  two  men  at  the  wheel  looked  silently  forward,  with 
that  exasperating  unconcern  of  any  landsman's  interest 
peculiar  to  marine  officials.  The  passenger  turned  im- 
patiently to  the  third  mate. 

"  But  this  ain't  right,  you  know.  It  was  understood 
that  we  were  going  into  Mazatlan.  I  've  got  business 
there." 

"  My  orders,  sir,"  said  the  mate  curtly,  turning  away. 

The  practical  passenger  had  been  observant  enough  of 
sea-going  rules  to  recognize  that  this  reason  was  final, 
and  that  it  was  equally  futile  to  demand  an  interview 
with  the  captain  when  that  gentleman  was  not  visibly  on 
duty.  He  turned  angrily  to  the  cabin  again. 

"You  look  disturbed,  my  dear  Banks.  I  trust  you 
have  n't  slept  badly,"  said  a  very  gentle  voice  from  the 
quarter-rail  near  him ;  "  or,  perhaps,  the  ship's  going 
about  has  upset  you.  It 's  a  little  rougher  on  this  tack." 

"  That 's  just  it,"  returned  Banks  sharply.  "  We  have 
gone  about,  and  we  're  not  going  into  Mazatlan  at  all. 
It 's  scandalous  !  I  '11  speak  to  the  captain  —  I  '11  com- 
plain to  the  consignees  —  I  've  got  business  at  Mazatlan 
—  I  expect  letters  —  I  "  — 

"  Business,  my  dear  fellow  ? "  continued  the  voice,  in 
gentle  protest.  "  You  '11  have  time  for  business  when 


4  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

you  get  to  San  Francisco.  And  as  for  letters  —  they  '11 
follow  you  there  soon  enough.  Come  over  here,  my  boy, 
and  say  hail  and  farewell  to  the  Mexican  coast  —  to  the 
land  of  Montezuma  and  Pizarro.  Come  here  and  see  the 
mountain  range  from  which  Balboa  feasted  his  eyes  on 
the  broad  Pacific.  Come  !  " 

The  speaker,  though  apparently  more  at  his  ease  at 
sea,  was  in  dress  and  appearance  fully  as  unnautical  as 
Banks.  As  he  leaned  over  the  railing,  his  white,  close- 
fitting  trousers  and  small  patent-leather  boots  gave  him 
a  jaunty,  half-military  air,  which  continued  up  to  the 
second  button  of  his  black  frock-coat,  and  then  so  utterly 
changed  its  character  that  it  was  doubtful  if  a  greater 
contrast  could  be  conceived  than  that  offered  by  the 
widely  spread  lapels  of  his  coat,  his  low  turned-down 
collar,  loosely  knotted  silk  handkerchief,  and  the  round, 
smooth-shaven,  gentle,  pacific  face  above  them.  His 
straight  long  black  hair,  shining  as  if  from  recent  immer- 
sion, was  tucked  carefully  behind  his  ears,  and  hung  in  a 
heavy,  even,  semicircular  fringe  around  the  back  of  his 
neck  where  his  tall  hat  usually  rested,  as  if  to  leave  his 
forehead  meekly  exposed  to  celestial  criticism.  When  he 
had  joined  the  ship  at  Callao,  his  fellow-passengers, 
rashly  trusting  to  the  momentary  suggestion  of  his  legs 
on  the  gang-plank,  had  pronounced  him  military ;  meet- 
ing him  later  at  dinner,  they  had  regarded  the  mild 
Methodistic  contour  of  his  breast  and  shoulders  above 
the  table,  and  entertained  the  wild  idea  of  asking  him  to 
evoke  a  blessing.  To  complete  the  confusion  of  his  ap- 
pearance, he  was  called  "  Sefior  "  Perkins,  for  no  other 
reason,  apparently,  than  his  occasional,  but  masterful, 
use  of  the  Spanish  vernacular. 

Steadying  himself  by  one  of  the  quarter  stanchions,  he 
waved  his  right  hand  oratorically  towards  the  sinking 
coast. 


A  Crusader  and  a  Sign.  5 

"  Look  at  it,  sir.  One  of  the  finest  countries  that  ever 
came  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator ;  a  land  overflowing 
with  milk  and  honey ;  containing,  sir,  in  that  one  moun- 
tain range,  the  products  of  the  three  zones  —  and  yet  the 
abode  of  the  oppressed  and  down-trodden ;  the  land  of 
faction,  superstition,  tyranny,  and  political  revolution." 

"That's  all  very  well,"  said  Banks  irritably,  "but 
Mazatlan  is  a  well-known  commercial  port,  and  has 
English  and  American  correspondents.  There  's  a  branch 
of  that  Boston  firm  — Potter,  Potts  &  Potter  —  there. 
The  new  line  of  steamers  is  going  to  stop  there  regu- 
larly." 

Senor  Perkins'  soft  black  eyes  fell  for  an  instant,  as 
if  accidentally,  on  the  third  mate,  but  the  next  moment 
he  laughed,  and,  throwing  back  his  head,  inhaled,  with 
evident  relish,  a  long  breath  of  the  sharp,  salt  air. 

"  Ah ! "  he  said  enthusiastically,  "  that 's  better  than  all 
the  business  you  can  pick  up  along  a  malarious  coast. 
Open  your  mouth  and  try  to  take  in  the  free  breath  of 
the  glorious  North  Pacific.  Ah  !  is  n't  it  glorious  ?  " 

"Where's  the  captain  ?"  said  Banks,  with  despairing 
irritation.  "  I  want  to  see  him." 

"  The  captain,"  said  Seiior  Perkins,  with  a  bland,  for- 
giving smile  and  a  slight  lowering  of  his  voice,  "  is,  I 
fear,  suffering  from  an  accident  of  hospitality,  and  keeps 
his  state-room.  The  captain  is  a  good  fellow,"  contin- 
ued Perkins,  with  gentle  enthusiasm  ;  "  a  good  sailor  and 
careful  navigator,  and  exceedingly  attentive  to  his  pas- 
sengers. I  shall  certainly  propose  getting  up  some  testi- 
monial for  him." 

"  But  if  he 's  shut  up  in  his  state-room,  who  's  giving 
the  orders  ?  "  began  Banks  angrily. 

Senor  Perkins  put  up  a  small,  well-kept  hand  deprecat- 
ingly. 

"  Really,  my  dear  boy,  I  suppose  the  captain  cannot  be 


6  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

omnipresent.  Some  discretion  must  be  left  to  the  other 
officers.  They  probably  know  his  ideas  and  what  is  to  be 
done  better  than  we  do.  You  business  men  trouble  your- 
selves too  much  about  these  things.  You  should  take  them 
more  philosophically.  For  my  part  I  always  confide  myself 
trustingly  to  these  people.  I  enter  a  ship  or  railroad  car 
with  perfect  faith.  I  say  to  myself,  'This  captain,  or  this 
conductor,  is  a  responsible  man,  selected  with  a  view  to 
my  safety  and  comfort ;  he  understands  how  to  procure 
that  safety  and  that  comfort  better  than  I  do.  He  wor- 
ries himself ;  he  spends  hours  and  nights  of  vigil  to  look 
after  me  and  carry  me  to  my  destination.  Why  should  / 
worry  myself,  who  can  only  assist  him  by  passive  obe- 
dience? Why'  — "  But  here  he  was  interrupted  by  a 
headlong  plunge  of  the  Excelsior,  a  feminine  shriek  that 
was  half  a  laugh,  the  rapid  patter  of  small  feet  and  sweep 
of  flying  skirts  down  the  slanting  deck,  and  the  sudden 
and  violent  contact  of  a  pretty  figure. 

The  next  moment  he  had  forgotten  his  philosophy,  and 
his  companion  his  business.  Both  flew  to  the  assistance 
of  the  fair  intruder,  who,  albeit  the  least  injured  of  the 
trio,  clung  breathlessly  to  the  bulwarks. 

"  Miss  Keene  !  "  ejaculated  both  gentlemen. 

"  Oh  dear  !  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  the  young  lady, 
reddening,  with  a  naive  mingling  of  hilarity  and  embar- 
rassment. "  But  it  seemed  so  stuffy  in  the  cabin,  and  it 
seemed  so  easy  to  get  out  on  deck  and  pull  myself  up 
by  the  railings  ;  and  just  as  I  got  up  here,  I  suddenly 
seemed  to  be  sliding  down  the  roof  of  a  house." 

"  And  now  that  you  're  here,  your  courage  should  be 
rewarded,"  said  the  Senor,  gallantly  assisting  her  to  a 
settee,  which  he  lashed  securely.  "You  are  perfectly 
safe  now,"  he  added,  holding  the  end  of  the  rope  in  his 
hand  to  allow  a  slight  sliding  movement  of  the  seat  as 
the  vessel  rolled.  "  And  here  is  a  glorious  spectacle  for 
you.  Look !  the  sun  is  just  rising." 


A   Crusader  and  a  Sign.  7 

The  young  girl  glanced  over  the  vast  expanse  before 
her  with  sparkling  eyes  and  a  suddenly  awakened  fancy 
that  checked  her  embarrassed  smile,  and  fixed  her  pretty, 
parted  lips -with  wonder.  The  level  rays  of  the  rising 
sun  striking  the  white  crests  of  the  lifted  waves  had  suf- 
fused the  whole  ocean  with  a  pinkish  opal  color :  the 
darker  parts  of  each  wave  seemed  broken  into  facets  in- 
stead of  curves,  and  glittered  sharply.  The  sea  seemed 
to  have  lost  its  fluidity,  and  become  vitreous  ;  so  much 
so,  that  it  was  difficult  to  believe  that  the  waves  which 
splintered  across  the  Excelsior's  bow  did  not  fall  upon 
her  deck  with  the  ring  of  shattered  glass. 

"  Sindbad's  Valley  of  Diamonds  !  "  said  the  young  girl, 
in  an  awed  whisper. 

"  It 's  a  cross  sea  in  the  Gulf  of  California,  so  the 
mate  says,"  said  Banks  practically;  "but  I  don't  see  why 
we"  ... 

"  The  Gulf  of  California  ? "  repeated  the  young  girl, 
while  a  slight  shade  of  disappointment  passed  over  her 
bright  face  ;  "  are  we  then  so  near  "  — 

"  Not  the  California  you  mean,  my  dear  young  lady," 
broke  in  Senor  Perkins,  "but  the  old  peninsula  of  Cali- 
fornia, which  is  still  a  part  of  Mexico.  It  terminates  in 
Cape  St.  Lucas,  a  hundred  miles  from  here,  but  it  's  still 
a  far  cry  to  San  Francisco,  which  is  in  Upper  California. 
But  I  fancy  you  don't  seem  as  anxious  as  our  friend  Mr. 
Banks  to  get  to  your  journey's  end,"  he  added,  with 
paternal  blandness. 

The  look  of  relief  which  had  passed  over  Miss  Keene's 
truthful  face  gave  way  to  one  of  slight  embarrassment. 

"  It  has  n't  seemed  long,"  she  said  hastily ;  and  then 
added,  as  if  to  turn  the  conversation,  "  What  is  this  pen- 
insula ?  I  remember  it  on  our  map  at  school." 

"  It 's  not  of  much  account,"  interrupted  Banks  posi- 
tively. "  There  ain't  a  place  on  it  you  ever  heard  of. 
It 's  a  kind  of  wilderness." 


8  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  I  differ  from  you,"  said  Senor  Perkins  gravely. 
"  There  are,  I  have  been  told,  some  old  Mexican  settle- 
ments along  the  coast,  and  there  is  no  reason  why  the 
country  should  n't  be  fruitful.  But  you  may  have  a 
chance  to  judge  for  yourself,"  he  continued  beamingly. 
"  Since  we  are  not  going  into  Mazatlan,  we  may  drop  in 
at  some  of  those  places  for  water.  It 's  all  on  our  way, 
and  we  shall  save  the  three  days  we  would  have  lost  had 
we  touched  Mazatlan.  That,"  he  added,  answering  an 
impatient  interrogation  in  Banks'  eye,  "  at  least,  is  the 
captain's  idea,  I  reckon."  He  laughed,  and  went  on 
still  gayly,  —  "  But  what 's  the  use  of  anticipating  ?  Why 
should  we  spoil  any  little  surprise  that  our  gallant  captain 
may  have  in  store  for  us  ?  I  've  been  trying  to  convert 
this  business  man  to  my  easy  philosophy,  Miss  Keene, 
but  he  is  incorrigible ;  he  is  actually  lamenting  his  lost 
chance  of  hearing  the  latest  news  at  Mazatlan,  and  get- 
ting the  latest  market  quotations,  instead  of  offering  a 
thanksgiving  for  another  uninterrupted  day  of  freedom  in 
this  glorious  air." 

With  a  half  humorous  extravagance  he  unloosed  his 
already  loose  necktie,  turned  his  Byron  collar  still  lower, 
and  squared  his  shoulders  ostentatiously  to  the  sea  breeze. 
Accustomed  as  his  two  companions  were  to  his  habitually 
extravagant  speech,  it  did  not  at  that  moment  seem  in- 
consistent with  the  intoxicating  morning  air  and  the  ex- 
hilaration of  sky  and  wave.  A  breath  of  awakening  and 
resurrection  moved  over  the  face  of  the  waters ;  recrea- 
tion and  new-born  life  sparkled  everywhere ;  the  past 
night  seemed  forever  buried  in  the  vast  and  exundating 
sea.  The  reefs  had  been  shaken  out,  and  every  sail  set 
to  catch  the  steadier  breeze  of  the  day;  and  as  the  quick- 
ening sun  shone  upon  the  dazzling  canvas  that  seemed  to 
envelop  them,  they  felt  as  if  wrapped  in  the  purity  of  a 
baptismal  robe. 


A   Crusader  and  a  Sign.  9 

Nevertheless,  Miss  Keene's  eyes  occasionally  wandered 
from  the  charming  prospect  towards  the  companion-ladder. 
Presently  she  became  ominously  and  ostentatiously  inter- 
ested in  the  view  again,  and  at  the  same  moment  a  young 
man's  head  and  shoulders  appeared  above  the  companion- 
way.  With  a  bound  he  was  on  the  slanting  deck,  moving 
with  the  agility  and  adaptability  of  youth,  and  approached 
the  group.  He  was  quite  surprised  to  find  Miss  Keene 
there  so  early,  and  Miss  Keene  was  equally  surprised  at 
his  appearance,  notwithstanding  the  phenomenon  had 
occurred  with  singular  regularity  for  the  last  three  weeks. 
The  two  spectators  of  this  gentle  comedy  received  it  as 
they  had  often  received  it  before,  with  a  mixture  of  appar- 
ent astonishment  and  patronizing  unconsciousness,  and, 
after  a  decent  interval,  moved  away  together,  leaving  the 
young  people  alone. 

The  hesitancy  and  awkwardness  which  usually  followed 
the  first  moments  of  their  charming  isolation  were  this 
morning  more  than  usually  prolonged. 

"  It  seems  we  are  not  going  into  Mazatlan,  after  all," 
said  Miss  Keene  at  last,  without  lifting  her  conscious  eyes 
from  the  sea. 

"  No,"  returned  the  young  fellow  quickly.  "  I  heard 
all  about  it  down  below,  and  we  had  quite  an  indignation 
meeting  over  it.  I  believe  Mrs.  Markham  wanted  to 
head  a  deputation  to  wait  upon  the  captain  in  his  berth. 
It  seems  that  the  first  officer,  or  whosoever  is  running  the 
ship,  has  concluded  we  Ve  lost  too  much  time  already, 
and  we  're  going  to  strike  a  bee-line  for  Cape  St.  Lucas, 
and  give  Mazatlan  the  go-by.  We  '11  save  four  days  by 
it.  I  suppose  it  don't  make  any  difference  to  you,  Miss 
Keene,  does  it?" 

"  I  ?     Oh,  no  !  "  said  the  girl  hastily. 

"7'm  rather  sorry,"  he  said  hesitatingly. 

"Indeed.  Are  you  tired  of  the  ship?"  she  asked 
saucily. 


io  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  No,"  he  replied  bluntly ;  "  but  it  would  have  given 
us  four  more  days  together  —  four  more  days  before  we 
separated." 

He  stopped,  with  a  heightened  color.  There  was  a 
moment  of  silence,  and  the  voices  of  Seiior  Perkins  and 
Mr.  Banks  in  political  discussion  on  the  other  side  of  the 
deck  came  faintly.  Miss  Keene  laughed. 

"  We  are  a  long  way  from  San  Francisco  yet,  and  you 
may  think  differently." 

"  Never !  "  he  said,  impulsively. 

He  had  drawn  closer  to  her,  as  if  to  emphasize  his 
speech.  She  cast  a  quick  glance  across  the  deck  towards 
the  two  disputants,  and  drew  herself  gently  away. 

"  Do  you  know,"  she  said  suddenly,  with  a  charming 
smile  which  robbed  the  act  of  its  sting,  "I  sometimes 
wonder  if  I  am  really  going  to  San  Francisco.  I  don't 
know  how  it  is;  but,  somehow,  I  never  can  see  myself 
there." 

"  I  wish  you  did,  for  /'m  going  there,"  he  replied 
boldly. 

Without  appearing  to  notice  the  significance  of  his 
speech,  she  continued  gravely  : 

"  I  have  been  so  strongly  impressed  with  this  feeling  at 
times  that  it  makes  me  quite  superstitious.  When  we 
had  that  terrible  storm  after  we  left  Callao,  I  thought 
it  meant  that  —  that  we  were  all  going  down,  and  we 
should  never  be  heard  of  again." 

"  As  long  as  we  all  went  together,"  he  said,  "  I  don't 
know  that  it  would  be  the  worst  thing  that  could  happen. 
I  remember  that  storm,  Miss  Keene.  And  I  remember  " 
—  He  stopped  timidly. 

"  What  ? "  she  replied,  raising  her  smiling  eyes  for  the 
first  time  to  his  earnest  face. 

"  I  remember  sitting  up  all  night  near  your  state-room, 
with  a  cork  jacket  and  lots  of  things  I  'd  fixed  up  for  you, 


A  Crusader  and  a  Sign.  n 

and  thinking  I  'd  die  before  I  trusted  you  alone  in  the 
boat  to  those  rascally  Lascars  of  the  crew." 

"  But  how  would  you  have  prevented  it  ? "  asked  Miss 
Keene,  with  a  compassionate  and  half-maternal  amuse- 
ment. 

"I  don't  know  exactly,"  he  said,  coloring;  "but  I'd 
have  lashed  you  to  some  spar,  or  made  a  raft,  and  got 
you  ashore  on  some  island." 

"  And  poor  Mrs.  Markham  and  Mrs.  Brimmer  —  you  'd 
have  left  them  to  the  boats  and  the  Lascars,  I  suppose  ? " 
smiled  Miss  Keene. 

"Oh,  somebody  would  have  looked  after  Mrs.  ^Mark- 
ham  ;  and  Mrs.  Brimmer  would  n't  have  gone  with  any- 
body that  was  n't  well  connected.  But  what 's  the  use  of 
talking  ? "  he  added  ruefully.  "  Nothing  has  happened, 
and  nothing  is  going  to  happen.  You  will  see  yourself  in 
San  Francisco,  even  if  you  don't  see  me  there.  You  're 
going  to  a  rich  brother,  Miss  Keene,  who  has  friends  of 
his  own,  and  who  won't  care  to  know  a  poor  fellow  whom 
you  tolerated  on  the  passage,  but  who  don't  move  in 
Mrs.  Brimmer's  set,  and  whom  Mr.  Banks  would  n't  in- 
dorse commercially." 

"  Ah,  you  don't  know  my  brother,  Mr.  Brace." 

"  Nor  do  you,  very  well,  Miss  Keene.  You  were  say- 
ing, only  last  night,  you  hardly  remembered  him." 

The  young  girl  sighed. 

"  I  was  very  young  when  he  went  West,"  she  said 
explanatorily  ;  "  but  I  dare  say  I  shall  recall  him.  What 
I  meant  is,  that  he  will  be  very  glad  to  know  that  I  have 
been  so  happy  here,  and  he  will  like  all  those  who  have 
made  me  so." 

"  Then  you  have  been  happy  ? " 

"  Yes ;  very."  She  had  withdrawn  her  eyes,  and  was 
looking  vaguely  towards  the  companion-way.  "Every- 
body has  been  so  kind  to  me." 


12  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  And  you  are  grateful  to  all  ? " 

"Yes." 

"  Equally  ? " 

The  ship  gave  a  sudden  forward  plunge.  Miss  Keene 
involuntarily  clutched  the  air  with  her  little  hand,  that 
had  been  resting  on  the  settee  between  them,  and  the 
young  man  caught  it  in  his  own. 

"Equally?"  he  repeated,  with  an  assumed  playfulness 
that  half  veiled  his  anxiety.  "  Equally  —  from  the  beam- 
ing Senor  Perkins,  who  smiles  on  all,  to  the  gloomy  Mr. 
Hurlstone,  who  smiles  on  no  one  ? " 

She  quickly  withdrew  her  hand,  and  rose.  "  I  smell 
the  breakfast,"  she  said  laughingly.  "Don't  be  horri- 
fied, Mr.  Brace,  but  I  'm  very  hungry."  She  laid  the 
hand  she  had  withdrawn  lightly  on  his  arm.  "  Now  help 
me  down  to  the  cabin." 


CHAPTER  II. 

ANOTHER   PORTENT. 

THE  saloon  of  the  Excelsior  was  spacious  for  the  size 
of  the  vessel,  and  was  furnished  in  a  style  superior  to 
most  passenger-ships  of  that  epoch.  The  sun  was  shin- 
ing through  the  sliding  windows  upon  the  fresh  and 
neatly  arranged  breakfast-table,  but  the  presence  of  the 
ominous  "  storm-racks,"  and  partitions  for  glass  and 
china,  and  the  absence  of  the  more  delicate  passengers, 
still  testified  to  the  potency  of  the  Gulf  of  California. 
Even  those  present  wore  an  air  of  fatigued  discontent, 
and  the  conversation  had  that  jerky  interjectional  quality 
which  belonged  to  people  with  a  common  grievance,  but 
a  different  individual  experience.  Mr.  Winslow  had 
been  unable  to  shave.  Mrs.  Markham,  incautiously  and 
surreptitiously  opening  a  port-hole  in  her  state-room  for 
a  whiff  of  fresh  air  while  dressing,  had  been  shocked  by 
the  intrusion  of  the  Pacific  Ocean,  and  was  obliged  to 
summon  assistance  and  change  her  dress.  Jack  Crosby, 
who  had  attired  himself  for  tropical  shore-going  in  white 
ducks  and  patent  leathers,  shivered  in  the  keen  north- 
west Trades,  and  bewailed  the  cheap  cigars  he  had  ex- 
pected to  buy  at  Mazatlan.  The  entrance  of  Miss 
Keene,  who  seemed  to  bring  with  her  the  freshness  and 
purity  of  the  dazzling  outer  air,  stirred  the  younger  men 
into  some  gallant  attention,  embarrassed,  however,  by 
a  sense  of  self-reproach. 

Sefior  Perkins  alone  retained  his  normal  serenity.  Al- 
ready seated  at  the  table  between  the  two  fair-headed 


14  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

children  of  Mrs.  Brimmer,  he  was  benevolently  perform- 
ing parental  duties  in  her  absence,  and  gently  super- 
vising and  preparing  their  victuals  even  while  he  carried 
on  an  ethnological  and  political  discussion  with  Mrs. 
Markham. 

"  Ah,  my  dear  lady,"  continued  the  Senor,  as  he  spread 
a  hot  biscuit  with  butter  and  currant  jelly  for  the  young- 
est Miss  Brimmer,  "  I  am  afraid  that,  with  the  fastid- 
iousness of  your  sex,  you  allow  your  refined  instincts 
against  a  race  who  only  mix  with  ours  in  a  menial  ca- 
pacity to  prejudice  your  views  of  their  ability  for  en- 
lightened self-government.  That  may  be  true  of  the  abo- 
rigines of  the  Old  World  —  like  our  friends  the  Lascars 
among  the  crew  "  — 

"They're  so  snaky,  dark,  and  deceitful-looking,"  in- 
terrupted Mrs.  Markham. 

"  I  might  differ  from  you  there,  and  say  that  the  higher 
blonde  types  like  the  Anglo-Saxon  —  to  say  nothing  of 
the  wily  Greeks  —  were  the  deceitful  races  :  it  might  be 
difficult  for  any  of  us  to  say  what  a  sly  and  deceitful  man 
should  be  like  "  — 

"  Oor  not  detheitful  —  oor  a  dood  man,"  interpolated 
the  youngest  fttiss  Brimmer,  fondly  regarding  the  biscuit. 

"Thank  you,  Missie,"  beamed  the  Senor;  "but  to 
return  :  our  Lascar  friends,  Mrs.  Markham,  belong  to  an 
earlier  Asiatic  type  of  civilization  already  decayed  or 
relapsed  to  barbarism,  while  the  aborigines  of  the  New 
World  now  existing  have  never  known  it  —  or,  like  the 
Aztecs,  have  perished  with  it.  The  modern  North 
American  aborigine  has  not  yet  got  beyond  the  tribal 
condition;  mingled  with  Caucasian  blood  as  he  is  in 
Mexico  and  Central  America,  he  is  perfectly  capable  of 
self-government." 

"Then  why  has  he  never  obtained  it?"  asked  Mrs. 
Markham. 


Another  Portent.  15 

"  He  has  always  been  oppressed  and  kept  down  by 
colonists  of  the  Latin  races  j  he  has  been  little  better 
than  a  slave  to  his  oppressor  for  the  last  two  centuries," 
said  Sefior  Perkins,  with  a  slight  darkening  of  his  soft 
eyes. 

"Injins  is  pizen,"  whispered  Mr.  Winslow  to  Miss 
Keene. 

"  Who  would  be  free,  you  know,  the  poet  says,  ought 
themselves  to  light  out  from  the  shoulder,  and  all  that  sort 
of  thing,"  suggested  Crosby,  with  cheerful  vagueness. 

"  True ;  but  a  little  assistance  and  encouragement  from 
mankind  generally  would  help  them,"  continued  the 
Senor.  "  Ah  !  my  dear  Mrs.  Markham,  if  they  could  even 
count  on  the  intelligent  sympathy  of  women  like  your- 
self, their  independence  would  be  assured.  And  think 
what  a  proud  privilege  to  have  contributed  to  such  a  re- 
sult, to  have  assisted  at  the  birth  of  the  ideal  American 
Republic,  for  such  it  would  be — a  Republic  of  one 
blood,  one  faith,  one  history." 

"What  on  earth,  or  sea,  ever  set  the  old  man  off 
again  ?  "  inquired  Crosby,  in  an  aggrieved  whisper.  "  It 's 
two  weeks  since  he  's  given  us  any  Central  American  in- 
dependent flapdoodle  —  long  enough  for  those  nigger  in- 
jins  to  have  had  half  a  dozen  revolutions.  You  know 
that  the  vessels  that  put  into  San  Juan  have  saluted  one 
flag  in  the  morning,  and  have  been  fired  at  under  an- 
other in  the  afternoon." 

"  Hush !  "  said  Miss  Keene.  "  He 's  so  kind !  Look  at 
him  now,  taking  off  the  pinafores  of  those  children  and 
tidying  them.  He  is  kinder  to  them  than  their  nurse, 
and  more  judicious  than  their  mother.  And  half  his 
talk  with  Mrs.  Markham  now  is  only  to  please  her,  be- 
cause she  thinks  she  knows  politics.  He  's  always  trying 
to  do  good  to  somebody." 

"  That 's  so,"  exclaimed  Brace,  eager  to  share  Miss 


1 6  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Keene's  sentiments ;  "  and  he 's  so  good  to  those  out- 
landish niggers  in  the  crew.  I  don't  see  how  the  captain 
could  get  on  with  the  crew  without  him  j  he  's  the  only  one 
who  can  talk  their  gibberish  and  keep  them  quiet.  I  've 
seen  him  myself  quietly  drop  down  among  them  when 
they  were  wrangling.  In  my  opinion,"  continued  the 
young  fellow,  lowering  his  voice  somewhat  ostentatiously, 
"  you  '11  find  out  when  we  get  to  port  that  he  's  stopped 
the  beginning  of  many  a  mutiny  among  them." 

"  I  reckon  they  'd  make  short  work  of  a  man  like  him," 
said  Winslow,  whose  superciliousness  was  by  no  means 
lessened  by  the  community  of  sentiment  between  Miss 
Keene  and  Brace.  "  I  reckon  his  political  reforms,  and 
his  poetical  high-falutin'  would  n't  go  as  far  in  the  fore- 
castle among  live  men  as  it  does  in  the  cabin  with  a  lot 
of  women.  You  '11  more  likely  find  that  he  's  been  some 
sort  of  steward  on  a  steamer,  and  he  's  working  his  pas- 
sage with  us.  That 's  where  he  gets  that  smooth,  equally- 
attentive-to-anybody  sort  of  style.  The  way  he  skirmished 
around  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Mrs.  Markham  with  a  basin  the 
other  day  when  it  was  so  rough  convinced  me.  It  was  a 
little  too  professional  to  suit  my  style." 

"  I  suppose  that  was  the  reason  why  you  went  below  so 
suddenly,"  rejoined  Brace,  whose  too  sensitive  blood  was 
beginning  to  burn  in  his  cheeks  and  eyes. 

"  It 's  a  shame  to  stay  below  this  morning,"  said  Miss 
Keene,  instinctively  recognizing  the  cause  of  the  discord 
and  its  remedy.  "  I  'm  going  on  deck  again  —  if  I  can 
manage  to  get  there." 

The  three  gentlemen  sprang  to  accompany  her ;  and, 
in  their  efforts  to  keep  their  physical  balance  and  hers 
equally,  the  social  equilibrium  was  restored. 

By  noon,  however,  the  heavy  cross-sea  had  abated,  and 
the  Excelsior  bore  west.  When  she  once  more  rose  and 
fell  regularly  on  the  long  rhythmical  swell  of  the  Pacific, 


Another  Portent.  17 

most  of  the  passengers  regained  the  deck.  Even  Mrs. 
Brimmer  and  Miss  Chubb  ventured  from  their  state- 
rooms, and  were  conveyed  to  and  installed  in  some  state 
on  a  temporary  divan  of  cushions  and  shawls  on  the  lee 
side.  For  even  in  this  small  republic  of  equal  cabin  pas- 
sengers the  undemocratic  and  distinction-loving  sex  had 
managed  to  create  a  sham  exclusiveness.  Mrs.  Brimmer, 
as  the  daughter  of  a  rich  Bostonian,  the  sister  of  a  prom- 
inent lawyer,  and  the  wife  of  a  successful  San  Francisco 
merchant,  who  was  popularly  supposed  to  be  part-owner 
of  the  Excelsior,  was  recognized,  and  alternately  caressed 
and  hated  as  their  superior.  A  majority  of  the  male  pas- 
sengers, owning  no  actual  or  prospective  matrimonial  sub- 
jection to  those  charming  toad-eaters,  I  am  afraid  con- 
tinued to  enjoy  a  mild  and  debasing  equality  among  them- 
selves, mitigated  only  by  the  concessions  of  occasional 
gallantry.  To  them,  Mrs.  Brimmer  was  a  rather  pretty, 
refined,  well-dressed  woman,  whose  languid  pallor,  aris- 
tocratic spareness,  and  utter  fastidiousness  did  not,  how- 
ever, preclude  a  certain  nervous  intensity  which  occasion- 
ally lit  up  her  weary  eyes  with  a  dangerous  phosphor- 
escence, under  their  brown  fringes.  Equally  acceptable 
was  Miss  Chubb,  her  friend  and  traveling  companion ; 
a  tall,  well-bred  girl,  with  faint  salmon-pink  hair  and  com- 
plexion, that  darkened  to  a  fiery  brown  in  her  short- 
sighted eyes. 

Between  these  ladies  and  Mrs.  Markham  and  Miss 
Keene  existed  an  enthusiastic  tolerance,  which,  however, 
could  never  be  mistaken  for  a  generous  rivalry.  Of  the 
greater  popularity  of  Miss  Keene  as  the  recognized  belle 
of  the  Excelsior  there  could  be  no  question ;  nor  was 
there  any  from  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  her  friend.  The  intel- 
lectual preeminence  of  Mrs.  Markham  was  equally,  and 
no  less  ostentatiously,  granted.  "  Mrs.  Markham  is  so 
clever ;  I  delight  to  hear  you  converse  together,"  Mrs. 


1 8  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Brimmer  would  say  to  Senor  Perkins,  "  though  I  'm  sure 
I  hardly  dare  talk  to  her  myself.  She  might  easily  go 
into  the  lecture-field  —  perhaps  she  expects  to  do  so  in 
California.  My  dear  Clarissa  "  —  to  Miss  Chubb  —  "  don't 
she  remind  you  a  little  of  Aunt  Jane  Winthrop's  govern- 
ess, whom  we  came  so  near  taking  to  Paris  with  us,  but 
could  n't  on  account  of  her  defective  French  ?  " 

When  "  The  Excelsior  Banner  and  South  Sea  Bubble  " 
was  published  in  lat.  15  N.  and  long.  105  W.,  to  which 
Mrs.  Markham  contributed  the  editorials  and  essays,  and 
Senor  Perkins  three  columns  of  sentimental  poetry,  Mrs. 
Brimmer  did  not  withhold  her  praise  of  the  fair  editor. 
When  the  Excelsior  "  Recrossed  the  Line,"  with  a  suita- 
ble tableau  vivant  and  pageant,  and  Miss  Keene  as  Cali- 
fornia, in  white  and  blue,  welcomed  from  the  hands  of 
Neptune  (Senor  Perkins)  and  Amphitrite  (Mrs.  Mark- 
ham)  her  fair  sister,  Massachusetts  (Mrs.  Brimmer),  and 
New  York  (Miss  Chubb),  Mrs.  Brimmer  was  most  enthu- 
siastic of  the  beauty  of  Miss  Keene. 

On  the  present  morning  Mr.  Banks  found  his  disap- 
pointment at  not  going  into  Mazatlan  languidly  shared 
by  Mrs.  Brimmer.  That  lady  even  made  a  place  for  him 
on  the  cushions  beside  her,  as  she  pensively  expressed 
her  belief  that  her  husband  would  be  still  more  disap- 
pointed. 

"  Mr.  Brimmer,  you  know,  has  correspondents  at  Ma- 
zatlan, and  no  doubt  he  has  made  particular  arrange- 
ments for  our  reception  and  entertainment  while  there. 
I  should  not  wonder  if  he  was  very  indignant.  And 
if,  as  I  fear,  the  officials  of  the  place,  knowing  Mr. 
Brimmer's  position  —  and  my  own  connections  —  have 
prepared  to  show  us  social  courtesies,  it  may  be  a  graver 
affair.  I  should  n't  be  surprised  if  our  Government  were 
obliged  to  take  notice  of  it.  There  is  a  Captain-General 
of  port  —  is  n't  there  ?  I  think  my  husband  spoke  of  him." 


Another  Portent.  19 

"  Oh,  he 's  probably  been  shot  long  ago,"  broke  in  Mr. 
Crosby  cheerfully.  "  They  put  in  a  new  man  every  revo- 
lution. If  the  wrong  party 's  got  in,  they  Ve  likely  shipped 
your  husband's  correspondent  too,  and  might  be  waiting 
to  get  a  reception  for  you  with  nigger  soldiers  and  ball 
cartridges.  Should  n't  wonder  if  the  skipper  got  wind  of 
something  of  the  kind,  and  that 's  why  he  did  n't  put  in. 
If  your  husband  had  n't  been  so  well  known,  you  see,  we 
might  have  slipped  in  all  right." 

Mrs.  Brimmer  received  this  speech  with  the  languid 
obliviousness  of  perception  she  usually  meted  out  to  this 
chartered  jester. 

"  Do  you  really  think  so,  Mr.  Crosby  ?  And  would  you 
have  been  afraid  to  leave  your  cabin  —  or  are  you  joking  ? 
You  know  I  never  know  when  you  are.  It  is  very  dread- 
ful, either  way." 

But  here  Miss  Chubb,  with  ready  tact,  interrupted  any 
possible  retort  from  Mr.  Crosby. 

"  Look,"  she  said,  pointing  to  some  of  the  other  pas- 
sengers, who,  at  a  little  distance,  had  grouped  about  the 
first  mate  in  animated  discussion.  "  I  wonder  what  those 
gentlemen  are  so  interested  about.  Do  go  and  see." 

Before  he  could  reply,  Mr.  Winslow,  detaching  himself 
from  the  group,  hurried  towards  them. 

"  Here 's  a  row  :  Hurlstone  is  missing !  Can't  be  found 
anywhere  !  They  think  he  's  fallen  overboard  !  " 

The  two  frightened  exclamations  from  Miss  Chubb  and 
Mrs.  Brimmer  diverted  attention  from  the  sudden  pale- 
ness of  Miss  Keene,  who  had  impulsively  approached 
them. 

"  Impossible  !  "  she  said  hurriedly. 

"  I  fear  it  is  so,"  said  Brace,  who  had  followed  Wins- 
low;  "although,"  he  added  in  a  lower  tone,  with  an 
angry  glance  at  the  latter,  "that  brute  need  not  have 
blustered  it  out  to  frighten  everybody.  They  're  search- 


2O  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

ing  the  ship  again,  but  there  seems  no  hope.  He  has  n't 
been  seen  since  last  night.  He  was  supposed  to  be  in 
his  state-room  —  but  as  nobody  missed  him  —  you  know 
how  odd  and  reserved  he  was  —  it  was  only  when  the 
steward  could  n't  find  him,  and  began  to  inquire,  that 
everybody  remembered  they  had  n't  seen  him  all  day. 
You  are  frightened,  Miss  Keene ;  pray  sit  down.  That 
fellow  Win  slow  ought  to  have  had  more  sense." 

"  It  seems  so  horrible  that  nobody  knew  it,"  said  the 
young  girl,  shuddering ;  "  that  we  sat  here  laughing  and 
talking,  while  perhaps  he  was  —  Good  heavens  !  what 's 
that?" 

A  gruff  order  had  been  given :  in  the  bustle  that  ensued 
the  ship  began  to  fall  off  to  leeward ;  a  number  of  the 
crew  had  sprung  to  the  davits  of  the  quarter  boat. 

"  We  're  going  about,  and  they  're  lowering  a  boat, 
that  's  all ;  but  it  's  as  good  as  hopeless,"  said  Brace. 
"  The  accident  must  have  happened  before  daylight,  or 
it  would  have  been  seen  by  the  watch.  It  was  probably 
long  before  we  came  on  deck,"  he  added  gently ;  "  so  com- 
fort yourself,  Miss  Keene,  you  could  have  seen  nothing." 

"  It  seems  so  dreadful,"  murmured  the  young  girl,  "  that 
he  was  n't  even  missed.  Why,"  she  said,  suddenly  rais- 
ing her  soft  eyes  to  Brace,  "you  must  have  noticed  his 
absence ;  why,  even  I "  —  She  stopped  with  a  slight 
confusion,  that  was,  however,  luckily  diverted  by  the  irre- 
pressible Winslow. 

"  The  skipper 's  been  routed  out  at  last,  and  is  giving 
orders.  He  don't  look  as  if  his  hat  fitted  him  any  too 
comfortably  this  morning,  does  he?"  he  laughed,  as  a 
stout,  grizzled  man,  with  congested  face  and  eyes,  and 
a  peremptory  voice  husky  with  alcoholic  irritation,  sud- 
denly appeared  among  the  group  by  the  wheel.  "  I  reckon 
he 's  cursing  his  luck  at  having  to  heave-to  and  lose  this 
wind." 


Another  Portent.  21 

"  But  for  a  human  creature's  life ! "  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Markham  in  horror. 

"  That 's  just  it.  Laying-to  now  ain't  going  to  save 
anybody's  life,  and  he  knows  it.  He  's  doin'  it  for  show, 
just  for  a  clean  record  in  the  log,  and  to  satisfy  you  peo- 
ple here,  who  'd  kick  up  a  row  if  he  did  n't." 

"  Then  you  believe  he 's  lost  ?  "  said  Miss  Keene,  with 
glistening  eyes. 

"  There  ain't  a  doubt  of  it,"  returned  Winslow  shortly. 

"  I  don't  agree  with  you,"  said  a  gentle  voice. 

They  turned  quickly  towards  the  benevolent  face  of 
Senor  Perkins,  who  had  just  joined  them. 

"  I  differ  from  my  young  friend,"  continued  the  Senor 
courteously,  "  because  the  accident  must  have  happened 
at  about  daybreak,  when  we  were  close  inshore.  It  would 
not  be  impossible  for  a  good  swimmer  to  reach  the  land, 
or  even,"  continued  Senor  Perkins,  in  answer  to  the  ray 
of  hope  that  gleamed  in  Miss  Keene's  soft  eyes,  "  for  him 
to  have  been  picked  up  by  some  passing  vessel.  The 
smoke  of  a  large  steamer  was  sighted  between  us  and  the 
land  at  about  that  time." 

"  A  steamer  !  "  ejaculated  Banks  eagerly ;  "  that  was 
one  of  the  new  line  with  the  mails.  How  provoking  !  " 

He  was  thinking  of  his  lost  letters.  Miss  Keene 
turned,  heart-sick,  away.  Worse  than  the  ghastly  inter- 
ruption to  their  easy  idyllic  life  was  this  grim  revelation 
of  selfishness.  She  began  to  doubt  if  even  the  hysterical 
excitement  of  her  sister  passengers  was  not  merely  a 
pleasant  titillation  of  their  bored  and  inactive  nerves. 

"  I  believe  the  Senor  is  right,  Miss  Keene,"  said  Brace, 
taking  her  aside,  "  and  I  '11  tell  you  why."  He  stopped, 
looked  around  him,  and  went  on  in  a  lower  voice,  — 
"  There  are  some  circumstances  about  the  affair  which 
look  more  like  deliberation  than  an  accident.  He  has 
left  nothing  behind  him  of  any  value  or  that  gives  any 


22  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

clue.  If  it  was  a  suicide  he  would  have  left  some  letter 
behind  for  somebody  —  people  always  do,  you  know,  at 
such  times  —  and  he  would  have  chosen  the  open  sea. 
It  seems  more  probable  that  he  threw  himself  overboard 
with  the  intention  of  reaching  the  shore." 

"  But  why  should  he  want  to  leave  the  ship  ?  "  echoed 
the  young  girl  simply. 

"  Perhaps  he  found  out  that  we  were  not  going  to  Ma- 
zatlan,  and  this  was  his  only  chance ;  it  must  have  hap- 
pened just  as  the  ship  went  about  and  stood  off  from 
shore  again." 

"  But  I  don't  understand,"  continued  Miss  Keene,  with 
a  pretty  knitting  of  her  brows,  "why  he  should  be  so 
dreadfully  anxious  to  get  ashore  now." 

The  young  fellow  looked  at  her  with  the  superior  smile 
of  youthful  sagacity. 

"  Suppose  he  had  particular  reasons  for  not  going  to 
San  Francisco,  where  our  laws  could  reach  him  !  Sup- 
pose he  had  committed  some  offense  !  Suppose  he  was 
afraid  of  being  questioned  or  recognized  ! " 

The  young  girl  rose  indignantly. 

"This  is  really  too  shameful!  Who  dare  talk  like 
that  ? " 

Brace  colored  quickly. 

"  Who  ?  Why,  everybody,"  he  stammered,  for  a  mo- 
ment abandoning  his  attitude  of  individual  acumen  ;  "  it 's 
the  talk  of  the  ship." 

"  Is  it  ?  And  before  they  know  whether  he  's  alive  or 
dead  —  perhaps  even  while  he  is  still  struggling  with 
death  —  all  they  can  do  is  to  take  his  character  away !  " 
she  repeated,  with  flashing  eyes. 

"  And  I  'm  even  worse  than  they  are,"  he  returned,  his 
temper  rising  with  his  color.  "  I  ought  to  have  known  I 
was  talking  to  one  of  his  friends,  instead  of  one  whom  I 
thought  was  mine.  I  beg  your  pardon." 


Another  Portent.  23 

He  turned  away  as  Miss  Keene,  apparently  not  heed- 
ing his  pique,  crossed  the  deck,  and  entered  into  conver- 
sation with  Mrs.  Markham. 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  she  found  little  consolation 
among  the  other  passengers,  or  even  those  of  her  own 
sex,  whom  this  profound  event  had  united  in  a  certain 
freemasonry  of  sympathy  and  interest  —  to  the  exclusion 
of  their  former  cliques.  She  soon  learned,  as  the  return 
of  the  boats  to  the  ship  and  the  ship  to  her  course  might 
have  clearly  told  her,  that  there  was  no  chance  of  recov- 
ering the  missing  passenger.  She  learned  that  the  theory 
advanced  by  Brace  was  the  one  generally  held  by  them  ; 
but  with  an  added  romance  of  detail,  that  excited  at  once 
their  commiseration  and  admiration.  Mrs.  Brimmer  re- 
membered to  have  heard  him,  the  second  or  third  night 
out  from  Callao,  groaning  in  his  state-room  ;  but  having 
mistakenly  referred  the  emotion  to  ordinary  seasickness, 
she  had  no  doubt  lost  an  opportunity  for  confidential  dis- 
closure. "  I  am  sure,"  she  added,  "  that  had  somebody 
as  resolute  and  practical  as  you,  dear  Mrs.  Markham,  ap- 
proached him  the  next  day,  he  would  have  revealed  his 
sorrow."  Miss  Chubb  was  quite  certain  that  she  had 
seen  him  one  night,  in  tears,  by  the  quarter  railing.  "  I 
saw  his  eyes  glistening  under  his  slouched  hat  as  I 
passed.  I  remember  thinking,  at  the  time,  that  he 
ought  n't  to  have  been  left  alone  with  such  a  dreadful 
temptation  before  him  to  slip  overboard  and  end  his  sor- 
row or  his  crime."  Mrs.  Markham  also  remembered  that 
it  was  about  five  o'clock  —  or  was  it  six  ?  —  that  morning 
when  she  distinctly  thought  she  had  heard  a  splash,  and 
she  was  almost  impelled  to  get  up  and  look  out  of  the 
bull's-eye.  She  should  never  forgive  herself  for  resisting 
that  impulse,  for  she  was  positive  now  that  she  would  have 
seen  his  ghastly  face  in  the  water.  Some  indignation  was 
felt  that  the  captain,  after  a  cursory  survey  of  his  state- 


24  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

room,  had  ordered  it  to  be  locked  until  his  fate  was  more 
positively  known,  and  the  usual  seals  placed  on  his  effects 
for  their  delivery  to  the  authorities  at  San  Francisco.  It 
was  believed  that  some  clue  to  his  secret  would  be  found 
among  his  personal  chattels,  if  only  in  the  form  'of  a 
keepsake,  a  locket,  or  a  bit  of  jewelry.  Miss  Chubb 
had  noticed  that  he  wore  a  seal  ring,  but  not  on  the  en- 
gagement-finger. In  some  vague  feminine  way  it  was  ad- 
mitted without  discussion  that  one  of  their  own  sex  was 
mixed  up  in  the  affair,  and,  with  the  exception  of  Miss 
Keene,  general  credence  was  given  to  the  theory  that 
Mazatlan  contained  his  loadstar  —  the  fatal  partner  and 
accomplice  of  his  crime,  the  siren  that  allured  him  to  his 
watery  grave.  I  regret  to  say  that  the  facts  gathered  by 
the  gentlemen  were  equally  ineffective.  The  steward  who 
had  attended  the  missing  man  was  obliged  to  confess  that 
their  most  protracted  and  confidential  conversation  had 
been  on  the  comparative  efficiency  of  ship  biscuits  and 
soda  crackers.  Mr.  Banks,  who  was  known  to  have 
spoken  to  him,  could  only  remember  that  one  warm 
evening,  in  reply  to  a  casual  remark  about  the  weather, 
the  missing  man,  burying  his  ears  further  in  the  turned-up 
collar  of  his  pea-jacket,  had  stated,  "  '  It  was  cold  enough 
to  freeze  the  ears  off  a  brass  monkey,' — a  remark,  no 
doubt,  sir,  intended  to  convey  a  reason  for  his  hiding  his 
own."  Only  Senor  Perkins  retained  his  serene  optimism 
unimpaired. 

"  Take  my  word  for  it,  we  shall  yet  hear  good  news 
of  our  missing  friend.  Let  us  at  least  believe  it  until  we 
know  otherwise.  Ah !  my  dear  Mrs.  Markham,  why 
should  the  Unknown  always  fill  us  with  apprehension  ? 
Its  surprises  are  equally  often  agreeable." 

"  But  we  have  all  been  so  happy  before  this  ;  and  this 
seems  such  an  unnecessary  and  cruel  awakening,"  said 
Miss  Keene,  lifting  her  sad  eyes  to  the  speaker,  "  that 


Another  Portent.  25 

I  can't  help  thinking  it 's  the  beginning  of  the  end. 
Good  heavens  !  what 's  that  ?  " 

She  had  started  at  the  dark  figure  of  one  of  the  for- 
eign-looking sailors,  who  seemed  to  have  suddenly  risen 
out  of  the  deck  beside  them. 

"The  Senor  Perkins,"  he  said,  with  an  apologetic 
gesture  of  his  hand  to  his  hatless  head. 

"  You  want  me,  my  good  man  ?  "  asked  Senor  Perkins 
paternally. 

"  Si,  Senor ;  the  mate  wishes  to  see  the  Patrono,"  he 
said  in  Spanish. 

"  I  will  come  presently." 

The  sailor  hesitated.  Senor  Perkins  took  a  step  nearer 
to  him  benignantly.  The  man  raised  his  eyes  to  Senor 
Perkins,  and  said,  — 

"Vigilancia." 

"  Bueno  !  "  returned  the  Senor  gently.  "  Excuse  me, 
ladies,  for  a  moment." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  some  news  of  poor  Mr.  Hurlstone  ?  " 
said  Miss  Keene,  with  an  instinctive  girlish  movement 
of  hope. 

"  Who  knows  ? "  returned  Senor  Perkins,  waving  his 
hand  as  he  gayly  tripped  after  his  guide.  "  Let  us  be- 
lieve in  the  best,  dear  young  lady,  the  best !  " 


CHAPTER   III. 


WITHOUT  exchanging  another  word  with  his  escort, 
Sefior  Perkins  followed  him  to  the  main  hatch,  where 
they  descended  and  groped  their  way  through  the  half 
obscurity  of  the  lower  deck.  Here  they  passed  one  or 
two  shadows,  that,  recognizing  the  Sefior,  seemed  to 
draw  aside  in  a  half  awed,  half  suppressed  shyness,  as  of 
caged  animals  in  the  presence  of  their  trainer.  At  the 
fore-hatch  they  again  descended,  passing  a  figure  that 
appeared  to  be  keeping  watch  at  the  foot  of  the  ladder, 
and  almost  instantly  came  upon  a  group  lit  up  by  the 
glare  of  a  bull's-eye  lantern.  It  was  composed  of  the 
first  and  second  mate,  a  vicious-looking  Peruvian  sailor 
with  a  bandaged  head,  and,  to  the  Senor's  astonishment, 
the  missing  passenger  Hurlstone,  seated  on  the  deck, 
heavily  ironed. 

"  Tell  him  what  you  know,  Pedro,"  said  the  first  mate 
to  the  Peruvian  sailor  curtly. 

"  It  was  just  daybreak,  Patrono,  before  we  put  about," 
began  the  man  in  Spanish,  "  that  I  thought  I  saw  some 
one  gliding  along  towards  the  fore-hatch ;  but  I  lost  sight 
of  him.  After  we  had  tumbled  up  to  go  on  the  other 
tack,  I  heard  a  noise  in  the  fore-hold.  I  went  down  and 
found  him"  pointing  to  Hurlstone,  "  hiding  there.  He 
had  some  provisions  stowed  away  beside  him,  and  that 
package.  I  grabbed  him,  Patrono.  He  broke  away  and 
struck  me  here  "  —  he  pointed  to  his  still  wet  bandage  — 
"  and  would  have  got  out  overboard  through  the  port,  but 


"  Vigilancia"  27 

the  second  mate  heard  the  row  and  came  down  just  in 
time  to  stop  him." 

"  When  was  this  ?  "  asked  Senor  Perkins. 

"  Guardia  di  Diana" 

"  You  were  chattering,  you  fellows." 

"  Quien  sabe  ? "  said  the  Peruvian,  lifting  his  shoul- 
ders. 

"  How  does  he  explain  himself  ? " 

"  He  refuses  to  speak." 

"Take  off  his  irons,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  in  English. 

"  But  "  —  expostulated  the  first  mate,  with  a  warning 
gesture. 

"  I  said  —  take  off  his  irons,"  repeated  Senor  Perkins 
in  a  dry  and  unfamiliar  voice. 

The  two  mates  released  the  shackles.  The  prisoner 
raised  his  eyes  to  Senor  Perkins.  He  was  a  slightly 
built  man  of  about  thirty,  fair-haired  and  hollow-cheeked. 
His  short  upper  lip  was  lifted  over  his  teeth,  as  if  from 
hurried  or  labored  breathing ;  but  his  features  were  reg- 
ular and  determined,  and  his  large  blue  eyes  shone  with 
a  strange  abstraction  of  courage  and  fatuity. 

"That  will  do,"  continued  the  Senor,  in  the  same 
tone.  "  Now  leave  him  with  me." 

The  two  mates  looked  at  each  other,  and  hesitated; 
but  at  a  glance  from  Perkins,  turned,  and  ascended  the 
ladder  again.  The  Peruvian  alone  remained. 

"  Go  !  "  said  the  Senor  sharply. 

The  man  cast  a  vindictive  look  at  the  prisoner  and 
retreated  sullenly. 

"  Did  he  tell  you,"  said  the  prisoner,  looking  after  the 
sailor  grimly,  "  that  I  tried  to  bribe  him  to  let  me  go,  but 
that  I  could  n't  reach  his  figure?  He  wanted  too  much. 
He  thought  I  had  some  stolen  money  or  valuables  here," 
he  added,  with  a  bitter  laugh,  pointing  to  the  package  that 
lay  beside  him. 


28  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  And  you  had  n't  ?  "  said  Perkins  shortly. 

"  No." 

"  I  believe  you.  And  now,  my  young  friend,"  said 
Perkins,  with  a  singular  return  of  his  beaming  gentleness, 
"  since  those  two  efficient  and  competent  officers  and  this 
energetic  but  discourteous  seaman  are  gone,  would  you 
mind  telling  me  what  you  were  hiding  for  ? " 

The  prisoner  raised  his  eyes  on  his  questioner.  For 
the  last  three  weeks  he  had  lived  in  the  small  community 
of  which  the  Senor  was  a  prominent  member,  but  he 
scarcely  recognized  him  now. 

"  What  if  I  refuse  ? "  he  said. 

The  Senor  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Those  two  excellent  men  would  feel  it  their  duty  to 
bring  the  Peruvian  to  the  captain,  and  I  should  be  called 
to  interpret  to  him." 

"  And  I  should  throw  myself  overboard  the  first  chance 
I  got.  I  would  have  done  so  ten  minutes  ago,  but  the 
mate  stopped  me." 

His  eye  glistened  with  the  same  fatuous  determination 
he  had  shown  at  first.  There  was  no  doubt  he  would  do 
as  he  said. 

"  I  believe  you  would,"  said  the  Senor  benevolently ; 
"but  I  see  no  present  necessity  for  that,  nor  for  any 
trouble  whatever,  if  you  will  kindly  tell  me  what  I  am  to 
say." 

The  young  man's  eyes  fell. 

"I  did  try  to  conceal  myself  in  the  hold,"  he  said 
bluntly.  "  I  intended  to  remain  there  hidden  while  the 
ship  was  at  Mazatlan.  I  did  not  know  until  now  that 
the  vessel  had  changed  her  course." 

"And  how  did  you  believe  your  absence  would  be  ac- 
counted for  ? "  asked  the  Senor  blandly. 

"  I  thought  it  would  be  supposed  that  I  had  fallen 
overboard  before  we  entered  Mazatlan." 


"  Vigilancia"  29 

"  So  that  anybody  seeking  you  tbere  would  not  find 
you,  and  you  would  be  believed  to  be  dead  ? " 

"  Yes."  He  raised  his  eyes  quickly  to  Seiior  Perkins 
again.  "  I  am  neither  a  thief  nor  a  murderer,"  he  said 
almost  savagely,  "  but  I  do  not  choose  to  be  recognized 
by  any  one  who  knows  me  on  this  side  of  the  grave." 

Senor  Perkins'  eyes  sought  his,  and  for  an  instant 
seemed  to  burn  through  the  singular,  fatuous  mist  that 
veiled  them. 

"My  friend,"  he  said  cheerfully,  after  a  moment's 
pause,  "  you  have  just  had  a  providential  escape.  I  re- 
peat it  —  a  most  providential  escape.  Indeed,  if  I  were 
inclined  to  prophesy,  I  would  say  you  were  a  man  re- 
served for  some  special  good  fortune." 

The  prisoner  stared  at  him  with  angry  amazement. 

"  You  are  a  confirmed  somnambulist.  Excuse  me," 
continued  the  Senor,  with  a  soft,  deprecating  gesture ; 
"  you  are,  of  course,  unaware  of  it  —  most  victims  of  that 
singular  complaint  are,  or  at  least  fail  to  recognize  the 
extent  of  their  aberration.  In  your  case  it  has  only  been 
indicated  by  a  profound  melancholy  and 'natural  shun- 
ning of  society.  In  a  paroxysm  of  your  disorder,  you 
rise  in  the  night,  fully  dress  yourself,  and  glide  as  un- 
consciously along  the  deck  in  pursuance  of  some  vague 
fancy.  You  pass  the  honest  but  energetic  sailor  who  has 
just  left  us,  who  thinks  you  are  a  phantom,  and  fails  to 
give  the  alarm  ;  you  are  precipitated  by  a  lurch  of  the 
ship  through  an  open  hatchway :  the  shock  renders  you 
insensible  until  you  are  discovered  and  restored." 

"  And  who  will  believe  this  pretty  story  ? "  said  the 
young  man  scornfully. 

"  The  honest  sailor  who  picked  you  up,  who  has  related 
it  in  his  own  picturesque  tongue  to  me,  who  will  in  turn 
interpret  it  to  the  captain  and  the  other  passengers,"  re- 
plied Senor  Perkins  blandly. 


30          The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  And  what  of  the  two  mates  who  were  here  ? "  said  the 
prisoner  hesitatingly. 

"They  are  two  competent  officers,  who  are  quite  con- 
tent to  carry  out  the  orders  of  their  superiors,  and  who 
understand  their  duty  too  well  to  interfere  with  the  reports 
of  their  subordinates,  on  which  these  orders  are  based. 
Mr.  Brooks,  the  first  officer,  though  fairly  intelligent  and 
a  good  reader  of  history,  is  only  imperfectly  acquainted 
with  the  languages,  and  Mr.  M'Carthy's  knowledge  of 
Spanish  is  confined  to  a  few  objurgations  which  generally 
preclude  extended  conversation." 

"  And  who  are  you,"  said  Hurlstone,  more  calmly, 
"  who  are  willing  to  do  this  for  a  stranger  ? " 

"A  friend  —  equally  of  yours,  the  captain's,  and  the 
other  passengers',"  replied  Senor  Perkins  pleasantly.  "  A 
man  who  believes  you,  my  dear  sir,  and,  even  if  he  did 
not,  sees  no  reason  to  interrupt  the  harmony  that  has  ob- 
tained in  our  little  community  during  our  delightful  pas- 
sage. Were  any  scandal  to  occur,  were  you  to  carry  out 
your  idea  of  throwing  yourself  overboard,  it  would,  to  say 
nothing  of  my  personal  regret,  produce  a  discord  for 
which  there  is  no  necessity,  and  from  which  no  personal 
good  can  be  derived.  Here  at  least  your  secret  is  secure, 
for  even  /  do  not  ask  what  it  is ;  we  meet  here  on  an 
equality,  based  on  our  own  conduct  and  courtesy  to  each 
other,  limited  by  no  antecedent  prejudice,  and  restrained 
by  no  thought  of  the  future.  In  a  little  while  we  shall  be 
separated — why  should  it  not  be  as  friends  ?  Why  should 
we  not  look  back  upon  our  little  world  of  this  ship  as  a 
happy  one  ? " 

Hurlstone  gazed  at  the  speaker  with  a  troubled  air.  It 
was  once  more  the  quaint  benevolent  figure  whom  he 
had  vaguely  noted  among  the  other  passengers,  and  as 
vaguely  despised.  He  hesitated  a  moment,  and  then, 
half  timidly,  half  reservedly,  extended  his  hand. 


"  Vigilancia?  31 

"  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  at  least  for  not  asking  my 
secret.  Perhaps,  if  it  was  only  "  — 

"Your  own  —  you  might  tell  it,"  interrupted  the  Senor, 
gayly.  "  I  understand.  I  see  you  recognize  my  principle. 
There  is  no  necessity  of  your  putting  yourself  to  that 
pain,  or  another  to  that  risk.  And  now,  my  young  friend, 
time  presses.  I  must  say  a  word  to  our  friends  above, 
who  are  waiting,  and  I  shall  see  that  you  are  taken  pri- 
vately to  your  state-room  while  most  of  the  other  pas- 
sengers are  still  on  deck.  If  you  would  permit  yourself 
the  weakness  of  allowing  the  steward  to  carry  or  assist 
you  it  would  be  better.  Let  me  advise  you  that  the  ex- 
citement of  the  last  three  hours  has  not  left  you  in  your 
full  strength.  You  must  really  give  me  the  pleasure  of 
spreading  the  glad  tidings  of  your  safety  among  the  pas- 
sengers, who  have  been  so  terribly  alarmed." 

"  They  will  undoubtedly  be  relieved,"  said  Hurlstone, 
with  ironical  bitterness. 

"  You  wrong  them,"  returned  the  Senor,  with  gentle 
reproach;  "especially  the  ladies." 

The  voice  of  the  first  mate  from  above  here  checked 
his  further  speech,  and,  perhaps,  prevented  him,  as  he 
quickly  reascended  the  upper  deck,  from  noticing  the 
slight  embarrassment  of  his  prisoner. 

The  Senor's  explanations  to  the  mate  were  evidently 
explicit  and  brief.  In  a  few  moments  he  reappeared  with 
the  steward  and  his  assistant. 

"Lean  on  these  men,"  he  said  to  Hurlstone  signifi- 
cantly, "  and  do  not  overestimate  your  strength.  Thank 
Heaven,  no  bones  are  broken,  and  you  are  only  bruised 
by  the  fall.  With  a  little  rest.  I  think  we  can  get  along 
without  laying  the  captain's  medicine-chest  under  contri- 
bution. Our  kind  friend  Mr.  Brooks  has  had  the  lower 
deck  cleared,  so  that  you  may  gain  your  state-room  with- 
out alarming  the  passengers  or  fatiguing  yourself." 


32          The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

He  pressed  Hurlstone's  hand  as  the  latter  resigned 
himself  to  the  steward,  and  was  half  led,  half  supported, 
through  the  gloom  of  the  lower  deck.  Senor  Perkins  re- 
mained for  an  instant  gazing  after  him  with  even  more 
than  his  usual  benevolence.  Suddenly  his  arm  was 
touched  almost  rudely.  He  turned,  and  encountered  the 
lowering  eyes  of  the  Peruvian  sailor. 

"  And  what  is  to  be  done  for  me  ? "  said  the  man 
roughly,  in  Spanish. 

"You?" 

"Yes.  Who's  to  pay  for  this?"  he  pointed  to  his 
bandaged  head. 

Without  changing  his  bland  expression,  Senor  Perkins 
apparently  allowed  his  soft  black  eyes  to  rest,  as  if  fondly, 
on  the  angry  pupils  of  the  Peruvian.  The  eyes  of  the 
latter  presently  sought  the  ground. 

"My  dear  Yoto,"  said  Senor  Perkins  softly,  "I 
scarcely  think  that  this  question  of  personal  damage  can 
be  referred  to  the  State.  I  will,  however,  look  into  it. 
Meantime,  let  me  advise  you  to  control  your  enthusiasm. 
Too  much  zeal  in  a  subordinate  is  even  more  fatal  than 
laxity.  For  the  rest,  son,  be  vigilant  —  and  peaceful. 
Thou  hast  meant  well,  much  shall  be  —  forgiven  thee. 
For  the  present,  vamos  /" 

He  turned  on  his  heel,  and  ascended  to  the  upper  deck. 
Here  he  found  the  passengers  thrilling  with  a  vague  ex- 
citement. A  few  brief  orders,  a  few  briefer  explanations, 
dropped  by  the  officers,  had  already  whetted  curiosity  to 
the  keenest  point.  The  Senor  was  instantly  beset  with 
interrogations.  Gentle,  compassionate,  with  well-rounded 
periods,  he  related  the  singular  accident  that  had  be- 
fallen Mr.  Hurlstone,  and  his  providential  escape  from 
almost  certain  death.  "  At  the  most,  he  has  now  only  the 
exhaustion  of  the  shock,  from  which  a  day  of  perfect 
rest  will  recover  him ;  but,"  he  added  deprecatingly,  "  at 
present  he  ought  not  to  be  disturbed  or  excited." 


"  Vigilancia?  33 

The  story  was  received  by  those  fellow-passengers  who 
had  been  strongest  in  their  suspicions  of  Hurlstone's 
suicide  or  flight,  with  a  keen  sense  of  discomfiture,  only 
mitigated  by  a  humorous  perception  of  the  cause  of  the 
accident.  It  was  agreed  that  a  man  whose  ludicrous  in- 
firmity had  been  the  cause  of  putting  the  ship  out  of  her 
course,  and  the  passengers  out  of  their  comfortable  secu- 
rity, could  not  be  wronged  by  attributing  to  him  manlier 
and  more  criminal  motives.  A  somnambulist  on  ship- 
board was  clearly  a  humorous  object,  who  might,  however, 
become  a  bore.  "  It  all  accounts  for  his  being  so  deuced 
quiet  and  reserved  in  the  daytime,"  said  Crosby  face- 
tiously ;  "  he  could  n't  keep  it  up  the  whole  twenty-four 
hours.  If  he  'd  only  given  us  a  little  more  of  his  company 
when  he  was  awake,  he  would  n't  have  gallivanted  round 
at  night,  and  we  'd  have  been  thirty  miles  nearer  port." 
Equal  amusement  was  created  by  the  humorous  sugges- 
tion that  the  unfortunate  man  had  never  been  entirely 
awake  during  the  voyage,  and  that  he  would'  now,  prob- 
ably for  the  first  time,  really  make  the  acquaintance  of 
his  fellow-voyagers.  Listening  to  this  badinage  with 
bland  tolerance,  Sefior  Perkins  no  doubt  felt  that,  for 
the  maintenance  of  that  perfect  amity  he  so  ardently 
apostrophized,  it  was  just  as  well  that  Hurlstone  was  in 
his  state-room,  and  out  of  hearing. 

He  would  have  been  more  satisfied,  however,  had  he 
been  permitted  to  hear  the  feminine  comments  on  this 
incident.  In  the  eyes  of  the  lady  passengers  Mr.  Hurl- 
stone  was  more  a  hero  than  ever ;  his  mysterious  malady 
invested  him  with  a  vague  and  spiritual  interest  j  his  es- 
cape from  the  awful  fate  reserved  to  him,  in  their  excited 
fancy,  gave  him  the  eclat  of  having  actually  survived  it ; 
while  the  supposed  real  incident  of  his  fall  through  the 
hatchway  lent  him  the  additional  lustre  of  a  wounded  and 
crippled  man.  That  prostrate  condition  of  active  human- 


34          The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

ity,  which  so  irresistibly  appeals  to  the  feminine  imagina- 
tion as  segregating  their  victim  from  the  distractions 
of  his  own  sex,  and,  as  it  were,  delivering  him  helpless 
into  their  hands,  was  at  once  their  opportunity,  and  his. 
All  the  ladies  volunteered  to  nurse  him  ;  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty that  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Mrs.  Markham,  reinforced 
with  bandages,  flannels,  and  liniments,  and  supported  by 
different  theories,  could  be  kept  from  the  door  of  his 
state-room.  Jellies,  potted  meats,  and  delicacies  from 
their  private  stores  appeared  on  trays  at  his  bedside,  to 
be  courteously  declined  by  the  Senor  Perkins,  in  his  new 
functions  of  a  benevolent  type  of  Sancho  Panza  physi- 
cian. To  say  that  this  pleased  the  gentle  optimism  of 
the  Senor  is  unnecessary.  Even  while  his  companion 
writhed  under  the  sting  of  this  enforced  compassion,  the 
good  man  beamed  philosophically  upon  him. 

"Take  care,  or  I  shall  end  this  cursed  farce  in  my 
own  way,"  said  Hurlstone  ominously,  his  eyes  again 
filming  with  a  vague  desperation. 

"  My  dear  boy,"  returned  the  Senor  gently,  "  reflect 
upon  the  situation.  Your  suffering,  real  or  implied,  pro- 
duces in  the  hearts  of  these  gentle  creatures  a  sympathy 
which  not  only  exalts  and  sustains  their  higher  natures, 
but,  I  conscientiously  believe,  gratifies  and  pleases  their 
lower  ones.  Why  should  you  deny  them  this  opportunity 
of  indulging  their  twofold  organisms,  and  beguiling  the 
tedium  of  the  voyage,  merely  because  of  some  erroneous 
exhibition  of  fact  ?  " 

Later,  *Senor  Perkins  might  have  added  to  this  exposi- 
tion the  singularly  stimulating  effect  which  Hurlstone's 
supposed  peculiarity  had  upon  the  feminine  imagination. 
But  there  were  some  secrets  which  were  not  imparted 
even  to  him,  and  it  was  only  to  each  other  that  the  ladies 
confided  certain  details  and  reminiscences.  For  it  now 
appeared  that  they  had  all  heard  strange  noises  and 


"  Vigilanciar  35 

stealthy  steps  at  night ;  and  Mrs.  Brimmer  was  quite 
sure  that  on  one  occasion  the  handle  of  her  state-room 
door  was  softly  turned.  Mrs.  Markham  also  remembered 
distinctly  that  only  a  week  before,  being  unable  to  sleep, 
she  had  ventured  out  into  the  saloon  in  a  dressing-gown 
to  get  her  diary,  which  she  had  left  with  a  portfolio  on 
a  chair ;  that  she  had  a  sudden  consciousness  of  another 
presence  in  the  saloon,  although  she  could  distinguish 
nothing  by  the  dim  light  of  the  swinging  lantern  ;  and 
that,  after  quickly  returning  to  her  room,  she  was  quite 
positive  she  heard  a  door  close.  But  the  most  surprising 
reminiscence  developed  by  the  late  incident  was  from 
Mrs.  Brimmer's  nurse,  Susan.  As  it,  apparently,  demon- 
strated the  fact  that  Mr.  Hurlstone  not  only  walked  but 
talked  in  his  sleep,  it  possessed  a  more  mysterious  signifi- 
cance. It  seemed  that  Susan  was  awakened  one  night 
by  the  sound  of  voices,  and,  opening  her  door  softly,  saw 
a  figure  which  she  at  first  supposed  to  be  the  Sefior 
Perkins,  but  which  she  now  was  satisfied  was  poor  Mr. 
Hurlstone.  As  there  was  no  one  else  to  be  seen,  the 
voices  must  have  proceeded  from  that  single  figure  ;  and 
being  in  a  strange  and  unknown  tongue,  were  inexpressi- 
bly weird  and  awful.  When  pressed  to  remember  what 
was  said,  she  could  only  distinguish  one  word  —  a  wo- 
man's name  —  Virgil  —  Vigil  —  no  :  Virginescia  ! 

"  It  must  have  been  one  of  those  creatures  at  Callao, 
whose  pictures  you  can  buy  for  ten  cents,"  said  Mrs. 
Brimmer. 

"  If  it  is  one  of  them,  Susan  must  have  made  a  mis- 
take in  the  first  two  syllables  of  the  name,"  said  Mrs. 
Markham  grimly. 

"But  surely,  Miss  Keene,"  said  Miss  Chubb,  turning 
to  that  young  lady,  who  had  taken  only  the  part  of  a 
passive  listener  to  this  colloquy,  and  was  gazing  over 
the  railing  at  the  sinking  sun,  "  surely  you  can  tell  us 


36  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

something  about  this  poor  young  man.  If  I  don't  mis- 
take, you  are  the  only  person  he  ever  honored  with  his 
conversation." 

"  And  only  once,  I  think,"  said  the  young  girl,  slightly 
coloring.  "  He  happened  to  be  sitting  next  to  me  on 
deck,  and  I  believe  he  spoke  only  out  of  politeness.  At 
least,  he  seemed  very  quiet  and  reserved,  and  talked  on 
general  topics,  and  I  thought  very  intelligently.  I  — 
should  have  thought  —  I  mean,"  she  continued  hesitat- 
ingly —  "I  thought  he  was  an  educated  gentleman." 

"  That  is  n't  at  all  inconsistent  with  photographs  or 
sleep-walking,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer,  with  one  of  her  vague 
simplicities.  "Uncle  Quincey  brought  home  a  whole 
sheaf  of  those  women  whom  he  said  he  'd  met ;  and  one 
of  my  cousins,  who  was  educated  at  Heidelberg,  used  to 
walk  in  his  sleep,  as  it  were,  all  over  Europe." 

"Did  you  notice  anything  queer  in  his  eyes,  Miss 
Keene  ? "  asked  Miss  Chubb  vivaciously. 

Miss  Keene  had  noticed  that  his  eyes  were  his  best 
feature,  albeit  somewhat  abstracted  and  melancholy ;  but, 
for  some  vague  reason  she  could  not  explain  herself,  she 
answered  hurriedly  that  she  had  seen  nothing  very  par- 
ticular in  them. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Markham  positively,  "  when  he  's 
able  to  be  out  again,  /shall  consider  it  my  duty  to  look 
him  up,  and  try  to  keep  him  sufficiently  awake  in  the 
daytime  to  ensure  his  resting  better  at  night." 

"  No  one  can  do  it,  dear  Mrs.  Markham,  better  than 
you ;  and  no  one  would  think  of  misunderstanding  your 
motives,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer  sweetly.  "  But  it 's  getting 
late,  and  the  air  seems  to  be  ever  so  much  colder.  Cap- 
tain Bunker  says  it 's  because  we  are  really  nearing  the 
Californian  coast.  It  seems  so  odd  !  Mr.  Brimmer  wrote 
to  me  that  it  was  so  hot  in  Sacramento  that  you  could  do 
something  with  eggs  in  the  sun  —  I  forget  what." 


"  Vigilancia?  37 

"  Hatch  them  ? "  suggested  Miss  Chubb. 

"  I  think  so,"  returned  Mrs.  Brimmer,  rising.  "  Let  us 
go  below." 

The  three  ladies  rustled  away,  but  Miss  Keene,  throw- 
ing a  wrap  around  her  shoulders,  lingered  by  the  rail- 
ing. With  one  little  hand  supporting  her  round  chin, 
she  leaned  over  the  darkly  heaving  water.  She  was 
thinking  of  her  brief  and  only  interview  with  that  lonely 
man  whose  name  was  now  in  everybody's  mouth,  but 
who,  until  to-day,  had  been  passed  over  by  them  with 
an  unconcern  equal  to  his  own.  And  yet  to  her  refined 
and  delicately  feminine  taste  there  appeared  no  reason 
why  he  should  not  have  mingled  with  his  fellows,  and 
have  accepted  the  homage  from  them  that  she  was  in- 
stinctively ready  to  give.  He  seemed  to  her  like  a  gen- 
tleman—  and  something  more.  In  her  limited  but  joyous 
knowledge  of  the  world  —  a  knowledge  gathered  in  the 
happy  school-life  of  an  orphan  who  but  faintly  remem- 
bered and  never  missed  a  parent's  care  —  she  knew 
nothing  of  the  mysterious  dominance  of  passion,  suffer- 
ing, or  experience  in  fashioning  the  outward  expression 
of  men,  and  saw  only  that  Mr.  Hurlstone  was  unlike  any 
other.  That  unlikeness  was  fascinating.  He  had  said 
very  little  to  her  in  that  very  brief  period.  He  had  not 
talked  to  her  with  the  general  gallantry  which  she  already 
knew  her  prettiness  elicited.  Without  knowing  why,  she 
felt  there  was  a  subtle  flattery  in  his  tacit  recognition  of 
that  other  self  of  which  she,  as  yet,  knew  so  little.  She 
could  not  remember  what  they  had  talked  about — nor 
why.  Nor  was  she  offended  that  he  had  never  spoken 
to  her  since,  nor  gone  beyond  a  grave^  lifting  of  his  hat 
to  her  when  he  passed. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

IN   THE   FOG. 

BY  noon  of  the  following  day  the  coast  of  the  Penin- 
sula of  California  had  been  sighted  to  leeward.  The 
lower  temperature  of  the  northwest  Trades  had  driven 
Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Miss  Chubb  into  their  state-rooms  to 
consult  their  wardrobes  in  view  of  an  impending  change 
from  the  light  muslins  and  easy  languid  toilets  of  the 
Tropics.  That  momentous  question  for  the  moment 
held  all  other  topics  in  abeyance ;  and  even  Mrs.  Mark- 
ham  and  Miss  Keene,  though  they  still  kept  the  deck, 
in  shawls  and  wraps,  sighed  over  this  feminine  evidence 
of  the  gentle  passing  of  their  summer  holiday.  The 
gentlemen  had  already  mounted  their  pea-jackets  and 
overcoats,  with  the  single  exception  of  Senor  Perkins, 
who,  in  chivalrous  compliment  to  the  elements,  still 
bared  his  unfettered  throat  and  forehead  to  the  breeze. 
The  aspect  of  the  coast,  as  seen  from  the  Excelsior's 
deck,  seemed  to  bear  out  Mr.  Banks'  sweeping  indict- 
ment of  the  day  before.  A  few  low,  dome-like  hills,  yel- 
low and  treeless  as  sand  dunes,  scarcely  raised  themselves 
above  the  horizon.  The  air,  too,  appeared  to  have  taken 
upon  itself  a  dry  asperity ;  the  sun  shone  with  a  hard, 
practical  brilliancy.  Miss  Keene  raised  her  eyes  to  Senor 
Perkins  with  a  pretty  impatience  that  she  sometimes  in- 
dulged in,  as  one  ,of  the  privileges  of  accepted  beauty  and 
petted  youth. 

"  I  don't  think  much  of  your  peninsula,"  she  said  pout- 
ingly.  **It  looks  dreadfully  flat  and  uninteresting.  It 


In  the  Fog.  39 

was  a  great  deal  nicer  on  the  other  coast,  or  even  at 
sea." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  judging  hastily,  my  dear  young 
friend,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  with  habitual  tolerance.  "  I 
have  heard  that  behind  those  hills,  and  hidden  from  sight 
in  some  of  the  canons,  are  perfect  little  Edens  of  beauty 
and  fruitfulness.  They  are  like  some  ardent  natures  that 
cover  their  approaches  with  the  ashes  of  their  burnt-up 
fires,  but  only  do  it  the  better  to  keep  intact  their  glow- 
ing, vivifying,  central  heat." 

"  How  very  poetical,  Mr.  Perkins  !  "  said  Mrs.  Mark- 
ham,  with  blunt  admiration.  "  You  ought  to  put  that 
into  verse." 

"  I  have,"  returned  Senor  Perkins  modestly.  "  They 
are  some  reflections  on  —  I  hardly  dare  call  them  an 
apostrophe  to  —  the  crater  of  Colima.  If  you  will  per- 
mit me  to  read  them  to  you  this  evening,  I  shall  be 
charmed.  I  hope  also  to  take  that  opportunity  of  show- 
ing you  the  verses  of  a  gifted  woman,  not  yet  known  to 
fame,  Mrs.  Euphemia  M'Corkle,  of  Peoria,  Illinois." 

Mrs.  Markham  coughed  slightly.  The  gifted  M'Corkle 
was  already  known  to  her  through  certain  lines  quoted  by 
the  Senor ;  and  the  entire  cabin  had  one  evening  fled  be- 
fore a  larger  and  more  ambitious  manuscript  of  the  fair 
Illinoisian.  Miss  Keene,  who  dreaded  the  reappearance 
of  this  poetical  phantom  that  seemed  to  haunt  the  Senor's 
fancy,  could  not,  however,  forget  that  she  had  been 
touched  on  that  occasion  by  a  kindly  moisture  of  eye  and 
tremulousness  of  voice  in  the  reader ;  and,  in  spite  of  the 
hopeless  bathos  of  the  composition,  she  had  forgiven 
him.  Though  she  did  not  always  understand  Senor 
Perkins,  she  liked  him  too  well  to  allow  him  to  become 
ridiculous  to  others  ;  and  at  the  present  moment  she 
promptly  interposed  with  a  charming  assumption  of  co- 
quetry. 


4O  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"You  forget  that  you  promised  to  let  me  read  the 
manuscript  first,  and  in  private,  and  that  you  engaged  to 
give  me  my  revenge  at  chess  this  evening.  But  do  as 
you  like.  You  are  all  fast  becoming  faithless.  I  suppose 
it  is  because  our  holiday  is  drawing  to  a  close,  and  we 
shall  soon  forget  we  ever  had  any,  or  be  ashamed  we  ever 
played  so  long.  Everybody  seems  to  be  getting  nervous 
and  fidgety  and  preparing  for  civilization  again.  Mr. 
Banks,  for  the  last  few  days,  has  dressed  himself  regularly 
as  if  he  were  going  down  town  to  his  office,  and  writes 
letters  in  the  corner  of  the  saloon  as  if  it  were  a  counting- 
house.  Mr.  Crosby  and  Mr.  Winslow  do  nothing  but 
talk  of  their  prospects,  and  I  believe  they  are  drawing 
up  articles  of  partnership  together.  Here  is  Mr.  Brace 
frightening  me  by  telling  me  that  my  brother  will  lock  me 
up,  to  keep  the  rich  miners  from  laying  their  bags  of  gold 
dust  at  my  feet ;  and  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Miss  Chubb  as- 
sure me  that  I  have  n't  a  decent  gown  to  go  ashore  in." 

"  You  forget  Mr.  Hurlstone,"  said  Brace,  with  ill-con- 
cealed bitterness  ;  "  he  seems  to  have  time  enough  on  his 
hands,  and  I  dare  say  would  sympathize  with  you.  You 
women  like  idle  men." 

"  If  we  do,  it 's  because  only  the  idle  men  have  the 
time  to  amuse  us,"  retorted  Miss  Keene.  "But,"  she 
added,  with  a  laugh,  "  I  suppose  I  'm  getting  nervous  and 
fidgety  myself ;  for  I  find  myself  every  now  and  then 
watching  the  officers  and  men,  and  listening  to  the  orders 
as  if  something  were  going  to  happen  again.  I  never 
felt  so  before  j  I  never  used  to  have  the  least  concern  in 
what  you  call  '  the  working  of  the  ship,'  and  now  "  —  her 
voice,  which  had  been  half  playful,  half  pettish,  suddenly 
became  grave,  —  "and  now  —  look  at  the  mate  and  those 
men  forward.  There  certainly  is  something  going  on,  or 
is  going  to  happen.  What  are  they  looking  at  ?  " 

The  mate  had  clambered  halfway  up  the  main  ratlines, 


In  the  Fog.  41 

and  was  looking  earnestly  to  windward.  Two  or  three  of 
the  crew  on  the  forecastle  were  gazing  in  the  same  di- 
rection. The  group  of  cabin-passengers  on  the  quarter- 
deck, following  their  eyes,  saw  what  appeared  to  be 
another  low  shore  on  the  opposite  bow. 

"  Why,  there  's  another  coast  there  !  "  said  Mrs.  Mark- 
ham. 

"It's  a  fog-bank,"  said  Senor  Perkins  gravely.  He 
quickly  crossed  the  deck,  exchanged  a  few  words  with 
the  officer,  and  returned.  Miss  Keene,  who  had  felt  a 
sense  of  relief,  nevertheless  questioned  his  face  as  he 
again  stood  beside  her.  But  he  had  recovered  his  beam- 
ing cheerfulness.  "  It 's  nothing  to  alarm  you,"  he  said, 
answering  her  glance,  "  but  it  may  mean  delay  if  we  can't 
get  out  of  it.  You  don't  mind  that,  I  know." 

"  No,"  replied  the  young  girl,  smiling.  "  Besides,  it 
would  be  a  new  experience.  We  Ve  had  winds  and  calms 
—  we  only  want  fog  now  to  complete  our  adventures. 
Unless  it 's  going  to  make  everybody  cross,"  she  contin- 
ued, with  a  mischievous  glance  at  Brace. 

"  You  '11  find  it  won't  improve  the  temper  of  the  offi- 
cers," said  Crosby,  who  had  joined  the  group.  "  There  's 
nothing  sailors  hate  more  than  a  fog.  They  can  go  to 
sleep  in  a  hurricane  between  the  rolls  of  a  ship,  but  a  fog 
keeps  them  awake.  It 's  the  one  thing  they  can't  shirk. 
There 's  the  skipper  tumbled  up,  too !  The  old  man 
looks  wrathy,  don't  he  ?  But  it 's  no  use  now ;  we  're 
going  slap  into  it,  and  the  wind 's  failing !  " 

It  was  true.  In  the  last  few  moments  all  that  vast 
glistening  surface  of  metallic  blue  which  stretched  so  far 
to  windward  appeared  to  be  slowly  eaten  away  as  if  by 
some  dull,  corroding  acid  ;  the  distant  horizon  line  of  sea 
and  sky  was  still  distinct  and  sharply  cut,  but  the  whole 
water  between  them  had  grown  gray,  as  if  some  invisible 
shadow  had  passed  in  mid-air  across  it.  The  actual  fog 


42  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

bank  had  suddenly  lost  its  resemblance  to  the  shore,  had 
lifted  as  a  curtain,  and  now  seemed  suspended  over  the 
ship.  Gradually  it  descended ;  the  top-gallant  and  top- 
sails were  lost  in  this  mysterious  vapor,  yet  the  horizon 
line  still  glimmered  faintly.  Then  another  mist  seemed 
to  rise  from  the  sea  and  meet  it ;  in  another  instant  the 
deck  whereon  they  stood  shrank  to  the  appearance  of  a 
raft  adrift  in  a  faint  gray  sea.  With  the  complete  obliter- 
ation of  all  circumambient  space,  the  wind  fell.  Their 
isolation  was  complete. 

It  was  notable  that  the  first  and  most  peculiar  effect  of 
this  misty  environment  was  the  absolute  silence.  The 
empty,  invisible  sails  above  did  not  flap  ;  the  sheets  and 
halyards  hung  limp ;  even  the  faint  creaking  of  an  unseen 
block  overhead  was  so  startling  as  to  draw  every  eye  up- 
wards. Muffled  orders  from  viewless  figures  forward 
were  obeyed  by  phantoms  that  moved  noiselessly  through 
the  gray  sea  that  seemed  to  have  invaded  the  deck. 
Even  the  passengers  spoke  in  whispers,  or  held  their 
breath,  in  passive  groups,  as  if  fearing  to  break  a  silence 
so  replete  with  awe  and  anticipation.  It  was  next  noticed 
that  the  vessel  was  subjected  to  some  vague  motion  ;  the 
resistance  of  the  water  had  ceased,  the  waves  no  longer 
hissed  under  her  bows,  or  nestled  and  lapped  under  her 
counter;  a  dreamy,  irregular,  and  listless  rocking  had 
taken  the  place  of  the  regular  undulations  ;  at  times,  a 
faint  and  half  delicious  vertigo  seemed  to  overcome  their 
senses ;  the  ship  was  drifting. 

Captain  Bunker  stood  near  the  bitts,  where  his  brief 
orders  were  transmitted  to  the  man  at  the  almost  useless 
wheel.  At  his  side  Sefior  Perkins  beamed  with  un- 
shaken serenity,  and  hopefully  replied  to  the  captain's 
half  surly,  half  anxious  queries. 

"  By  the  chart  we  should  be  well  east  of  Los  Lobos 
island,  d'  ye  see  ? "  he  said  impatiently.  "  You  don't 


In  the  Fog.  43 

happen  to  remember  the  direction  of  the  current  off  shore 
when  you  were  running  up  here  ? " 

"It's  five  years  ago,"  said  the  Senor  modestly ;  "but 
I  remember  we  kept  well  to  the  west  to  weather  Cape  St. 
Eugenio.  My  impression  is  that  there  was  a  strong  north- 
westerly current  setting  north  of  Ballenos  Bay." 

"  And  we  're  in  it  now,"  said  Captain  Bunker  shortly. 
"  How  near  St.  Roque  does  it  set  ?  " 

"  Within  a  mile  or  two.  I  should  keep  away  more  to 
the  west,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  "and  clear"  — 

"  I  ain't  asking  you  to  run  the  ship,"  interrupted 
Captain  Bunker  sharply.  "  How  's  her  head  now,  Mr. 
Brooks  ?  " 

The  seamen  standing  near  cast  a  rapid  glance  at 
Senor  Perkins,  but  not  a  muscle  of  his  bland  face  moved 
or  betrayed  a  consciousness  of  the  insult.  Whatever 
might  have  been  the  feeling  towards  him,  at  that  moment 
the  sailors  —  after  their  fashion  —  admired  their  captain  ; 
strong,  masterful,  and  imperious.  The  danger  that  had 
cleared  his  eye,  throat,  and  brain,  and  left  him  once  more 
the  daring  and  skillful  navigator  they  knew,  wiped  out  of 
their  shallow  minds  the  vicious  habit  that  had  sunk  him 
below  their  level. 

It  had  now  become  perceptible  to  even  the  inexperi- 
enced eyes  of  the  passengers  that  the  Excelsior  was 
obeying  some  new  and  profound  impulse.  The  vague 
drifting  had  ceased,  and  in  its  place  had  come  a  mysteri- 
ous but  regular  movement,  in  which  the  surrounding  mist 
seemed  to  participate,  until  fog  and  vessel  moved  together 
towards  some  unseen  but  well-defined  bourne.  In  vain 
had  the  boats  of  the  Excelsior,  manned  by  her  crew, 
endeavored  with  a  towing-line  to  check  or  direct  the  in- 
explicable movement ;  in  vain  had  Captain  Bunker  strug- 
gled, with  all  the  skilled  weapons  of  seamanship,  against 
his  invincible  foe  ;  wrapped  in  the  impenetrable  fog,  the 
ship  moved  ghost-like  to  what  seemed  to  be  her  doom. 


44  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

The  anxiety  of  the  officers  had  not  as  yet  communi- 
cated itself  to  the  passengers  j  those  who  had  been  most 
nervous  in  the  ordinary  onset  of  wind  and  wave  looked 
upon  the  fog  as  a  phenomenon  whose  only  disturbance 
might  be  delay.  To  Miss  Keene  this  conveyed  no  an- 
noyance ;  rather  that  placid  envelopment  of  cloud  soothed 
her  fancy  ;  she  submitted  herself  to  its  soft  embraces,  and 
to  the  mysterious  onward  movement  of  the  ship,  as  if  it 
were  part  of  a  youthful  dream.  Once  she  thought  of  the 
ship  of  Sindbad,  and  that  fatal  loadstone  mountain,  with 
an  awe  that  was,  however,  half  a  pleasure. 

"  You  are  not  frightened,  Miss  Keene  ?  "  said  a  voice 
near  her. 

She  started  slightly.  It  was  the  voice  of  Mr.  Hurl- 
stone.  So  thick  was  the  fog  that  his  face  and  figure  ap- 
peared to  come  dimly  out  of  it,  like  a  part  of  her  dream- 
ing fancy.  Without  replying  to  his  question,  she  said 
quickly,  — 

"  You  are  better  then,  Mr.  Hurlstone  ?  We  —  we  were 
all  so  frightened  for  you." 

An  angry  shadow  crossed  his  thin  face,  and  he  hesi- 
tated. After  a  pause  he  recovered  himself,  and  said,  — 

"  I  was  saying  you  were  taking  all  this  very  quietly.  I 
don't  think  there  's  much  danger  myself.  And  if  we 
should  go  ashore  here  "*> — 

"  Well  ?  "  suggested  Miss  Keene,  ignoring  this  first  in- 
timation of  danger  in  her  surprise  at  the  man's  manner. 

"Well,  we  should  all  be  separated  only  a  few  days 
earlier,  that 's  all !  " 

More  frightened  at  the  strange  bitterness  of  his  voice 
than  by  the  sense  of  physical  peril,  she  was  vaguely  mov- 
ing away  towards  the  dimly  outlined  figures  of  her  com- 
panions when  she  was  arrested  by  a  voice  forward.  There 
was  a  slight  murmur  among  the  passengers. 

"  What  did  he  say  ?  "  asked  Miss  Keene.  "  What  are 
*  Breakers  ahead  '  ? " 


In  the  Fog.  45 

Hurlstone  did  not  reply. 

"  Where  away  ?  "  asked  a  second  voice. 

The  murmur  still  continuing,  Captain  Bunker's  hoarse 
voice  pierced  the  gloom,  —  "  Silence  fore  and  aft !  " 

The  first  voice  repeated  faintly,  — 

"  On  the  larboard  bow." 

There  was  another  silence.  Again  the  voice  repeated, 
as  if  mechanically,  — 

"  Breakers  ! " 

"  Where  away  ? " 

"  On  the  starboard  beam." 

"  We  are  in  some  passage  or  channel,"  said  Hurlstone 
quietly. 

The  young  girl  glanced  round  her  and  saw  for  the  first 
time  that,  in  one  of  those  inexplicable  movements  she 
had  not  understood,  the  other  passengers  had  been  with- 
drawn into  a  limited  space  of  the  deck,  as  if  through  some 
authoritative  orders,  while  she  and  her  companion  had 
been  evidently  overlooked.  A  couple  of  sailors,  who 
had  suddenly  taken  their  positions  by  the  quarter-boats, 
strengthened  the  accidental  separation. 

"  Is  there  some  one  taking  care  of  you  ?  "  he  asked, 
half  hesitatingly  ;  "  Mr.  Brace  —  Perkins  —  or  "  — 

"  No,"  she  replied  quickly.     "  Why  ?  " 

"  Well,  we  are  very  near  the  boat  in  an  emergency,  and 
you  might  allow  me  to  stay  here  and  see  you  safe  in  it." 

"  But  the  other  ladies  ?     Mrs.  Markham,  and  "  — 

"  They  '11  take  their  turn  after  you"  he  said  grimly, 
picking  up  a  wrap  from  the  railing  and  throwing  it  over 
her  shoulders. 

"But  —  I  don't  understand!"  she  stammered,  more 
embarrassed  by  the  situation  than  by  any  impending 
peril. 

"  There  is  very  little  danger,  I  think,"  he  added  im- 
patiently. "  There  is  scarcely  any  sea ;  the  ship  has  very 


46  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

little  way  on ;  and  these  breakers  are  not  over  rocks. 
Listen." 

She  tried  to  listen.  At  first  she  heard  nothing  but  the 
occasional  low  voice  of  command  near  the  wheel.  Then 
she  became  conscious  of  a  gentle,  soothing  murmur 
through  the  fog  to  the  right.  She  had  heard  such  a 
murmuring  accompaniment  to  her  girlish  dreams  at  New- 
port on  a  still  summer  night.  There  was  nothing  to 
frighten  her,  but  it  increased  her  embarrassment. 

"  And  you  ?  "  she  said  awkwardly,  raising  her  soft  eyes. 

"  Oh,  if  you  are  all  going  off  in  the  boats,  by  Jove,  I 
think  I  '11  stick  to  the  ship !  "  he  returned,  with  a  frank- 
ness that  would  have  been  rude  but  for  its  utter  abstrac- 
tion. 

Miss  Keene  was  silent.  The  ship  moved  gently  on- 
ward. The  monotonous  cry  of  the  leadsman  in  the  chains 
was  the  only  sound  audible.  The  soundings  were  indicat- 
ing shoaler  water,  although  the  murmuring  of  the  surf 
had  been  left  far  astern.  The  almost  imperceptible 
darkening  of  the  mist  on  either  beam  seemed  to  show 
that  the  Excelsior  was  entering  some  land-locked  pas- 
sage. The  movement  of  the  vessel  slackened,  the  tide 
was  beginning  to  ebb.  Suddenly  a  wave  of  far-off  clamor, 
faint  but  sonorous,  broke  across  the  ship.  There  was  an 
interval  of  breathless  silence,  and  then  it  broke  again, 
and  more  distinctly.  It  was  the  sound  of  bells ! 

The  thrill  of  awe  which  passed  through  passengers  and 
crew  at  this  spiritual  challenge  from  the  vast  and  intangible 
void  around  them  had  scarcely  subsided  when  the  captain 
turned  to  Senor  Perkins  with  a  look  of  surly  interroga- 
tion. The  Senor  brushed  his  hat  further  back  on  his 
head,  wiped  his  brow,  and  became  thoughtful. 

"  It 's  too  far  south  for  Rosario,"  he  said  deprecatingly ; 
"  and  the  only  other  mission  I  know  of  is  San  Carlos,  and 
that 's  far  inland.  But  that  is  the  Angelus,  and  those  are 
mission  bells,  surely." 


In  the  Fog.  47 

The  captain  turned  to  Mr.  Brooks.  The  voice  of  in- 
visible command  again  passed  along  the  deck,  and,  with 
a  splash  in  the  water  and  the  rattling  of  chains,  the  Ex- 
celsior swung  slowly  round  on  her  anchor  on  the  bosom 
of  what  seemed  a  placid  bay. 

Miss  Keene,  who,  in  her  complete  absorption,  had  lis- 
tened to  the  phantom  bells  with  an  almost  superstitious 
exaltation,  had  forgotten  the  presence  of  her  companion, 
and  now  turned  towards  him.  But  he  was  gone.  The  im- 
minent danger  he  had  spoken  of,  half  slightingly,  he  evi- 
dently considered  as  past.  He  had  taken  the  opportunity 
offered  by  the  slight  bustle  made  by  the  lowering  of  the 
quarter-boat  and  the  departure  of  the  mate  on  a  voyage 
of  discovery  to  mingle  with  the  crowd,  and  regain  his 
state-room.  With  the  anchoring  of  the  vessel,  the  momen- 
tary restraint  was  relaxed,  the  passengers  were  allowed 
to  pervade  the  deck,  and  Mrs.  Markham  and  Mr.  Brace 
simultaneously  rushed  to  Miss  Keene's  side. 

"We  were  awfully  alarmed  for  you,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Markham,  "until  we  saw  you  had  a  protector.  Do  tell 
me  —  what  did  he  say  ?  He  must  have  thought  the 
danger  great  to  have  broken  the  Sefior's  orders  and 
come  upon  deck  ?  What  did  he  talk  about  ?  " 

With  a  vivid  recollection  in  her  mind  of  Mr.  Hurl- 
stone's  contemptuous  ignoring  of  the  other  ladies,  Miss 
Keene  became  slightly  embarrassed.  Her  confusion  was 
not  removed  by  the  consciousness  that  the  jealous  eyes 
of  Brace  were  fixed  upon  her. 

"Perhaps  he  thought  it  was  night,  and  walked  upon 
deck  in  his  sleep,"  remarked  Brace  sarcastically.  "  He  's 
probably  gone  back  to  bed." 

"  He  offered  me  his  protection  very  politely,  and  begged 
to  remain  to  put  me  in  the  boat  in  case  of  danger,"  said 
Miss  Keene,  recovering  herself,  and  directing  her  reply 
to  Mrs.  Markham.  "  I  think  that  others  have  made  me 


48  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

the  same  kind  of  offer  —  who  were  wide  awake,"  she 
added  mischievously  to  Brace. 

"  I  would  n't  be  too  sure  that  they  were  not  foolishly 
dreaming  too,"  returned  Brace,  in  a  lower  voice. 

"I  should  think  we  all  were  asleep  or  dreaming  here," 
said  Mrs.  Markham  briskly.  "  Nobody  seems  to  know 
where  we  are,  and  the  only  man  who  might  guess  it  — 
Senor  Perkins  —  has  gone  off  in  the  boat  with  the  mate." 

"  We  're  not  a  mile  from  shore  and  a  Catholic  church," 
said  Crosby,  who  had  joined  them.  "  I  just  left  Mrs. 
Brimmer,  who  is  very  High  Church,  you  know,  quite 
overcome  by  these  Angelus  bells.  She  's  been  entreat- 
ing the  captain  to  let  her  go  ashore  for  vespers.  It 
would  n't  be  a  bad  idea,  if  we  could  only  see  what  sort 
of  a  place  we  Ve  got  to.  It  would  n't  do  to  go  feeling 
round  the  settlement  in  the  dark  —  would  it  ?  Hallo  ! 
what 's  that  ?  Oh,  by  Jove,  that  '11  finish  Mrs.  Brimmer, 
sure !  " 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Miss  Keene  impulsively. 

He  stopped.  The  long-drawn  cadence  of  a  chant  in 
thin  clear  soprano  voices  swept  through  the  fog  from  the 
invisible  shore,  rose  high  above  the  ship,  and  then  fell, 
dying  away  with  immeasurable  sweetness  and  melancholy. 
Even  when  it  had  passed,  a  lingering  melody  seemed  to 
fill  the  deck.  Two  or  three  of  the  foreign  sailors  crossed 
themselves  devoutly ;  the  other  passengers  withheld  their 
speech,  and  looked  at  each  other.  Afraid  to  break  the 
charm  by  speech,  they  listened  again,  but  in  vain;  an 
infinite  repose  followed  that  seemed  to  pervade  every- 
thing. 

It  was  broken,  at  last,  by  the  sound  of  oars  in  their 
rowlocks ;  the  boat  was  returning.  But  it  was  noticed 
that  the  fog  had  slightly  lifted  from  the  surface  of  the 
water,  for  the  boat  was  distinctly  visible  two  cables' 
length  from  the  ship  as  she  approached,  and  it  was  seen 


In  the  Fog.  49 

that  besides  the  first  officer  and  Senor  Perkins  there  were 
two  strangers  in  the  boat.  Everybody  rushed  to  the  side 
for  a  nearer  view  of  those  strange  inhabitants  of  the  un- 
known shore  j  but  the  boat's  crew  suddenly  ceased  row- 
ing, and  lay  on  their  oars  until  an  indistinct  hail  and 
reply  passed  between  the  boat  and  ship.  There  was  a 
bustle  forward,  an  unexpected  thunder  from  the  Excel- 
sior's eight-pounder  at  the  bow  port;  Captain  Bunker  and 
the  second  mate  ranged  themselves  at  the  companion- 
way,  and  the  passengers  for  the  first  time  became  aware 
that  they  were  participating  at  the  reception  of  visitors  of 
distinction,  as  two  strange  and  bizarre  figures  stepped 
upon  the  deck. 


CHAPTER  V. 

TODOS   SANTOS. 

IT  was  evident  that  the  two  strangers  represented  some 
exalted  military  and  ecclesiastical  authority.  This  was 
shown  in  their  dress  —  a  long-forgotten,  half  mediaeval 
costume,  that  to  the  imaginative  spectator  was  perfectly 
in  keeping  with  their  mysterious  advent,  and  to  the  more 
practical  as  startling  as  a  masquerade.  The  foremost 
figure  wore  a  broad-brimmed  hat  of  soft  felt,  with  tar- 
nished gold  lace,  and  a  dark  feather  tucked  in  its  re- 
curved flap ;  a  short  cloak  of  fine  black  cloth  thrown  over 
one  shoulder  left  a  buff  leathern  jacket  and  breeches, 
ornamented  with  large  round  silver  buttons,  exposed  un- 
til they  were  met  by  high  boots  of  untanned  yellow  buck- 
skin that  reached  halfway  up  the  thigh.  A  broad  baldric 
of  green  silk  hung  from  his  shoulder  across  his  breast, 
and  supported  at  his  side  a  long  sword  with  an  enormous 
basket  h'ilt,  through  which  somewhat  coquettishly  peeped 
a  white  lace  handkerchief.  Tall  and  erect,  in  spite  of 
the  grizzled  hair  and  iron-gray  moustaches  and  wrinkled 
face  of  a  man  of  sixty,  he  suddenly  halted  on  the  deck 
with  a  military  precision  that  made  the  jingling  chains 
and  bits  of  silver  on  his  enormous  spurs  ring  again.  He 
was  followed  by  an  ecclesiastic  of  apparently  his  own 
age,  but  smoothly  shaven,  clad  in  a  black  silk  sotana  and 
sash,  and  wearing  the  old-fashioned  oblong,  curl-brimmed 
hat  sacred  to  "  Don  Basilo,"  of  the  modern  opera.  Be- 
hind him  appeared  the  genial  face  of  Senor  Perkins, 
shining  with  the  benignant  courtesy  of  a  master  of  cere- 
monies. 


Todos  Santos.  51 

"  If  this  is  a  fair  sample  of  the  circus  ashore,  I  '11  take 
two  tickets,"  whispered  Crosby,  who  had  recovered  his 
audacity. 

"I  have  the  inexpressible  honor,"  said  Senor  Perkins 
to  Captain  Bunker,  with  a  gracious  wave  of  his  hand  to- 
wards the  extraordinary  figures,  "  to  present  you  to  the 
illustrious  Don  Miguel  Briones,  Comandante  of  the 
Presidio  of  Todos  Santos,  at  present  hidden  in  the  fog, 
and  the  very  reverend  and  pious  Padre  Esteban,  of  the 
Mission  of  Todos  Santos,  likewise  invisible.  When  I 
state  to  you,"  he  continued,  with  a  slight  lifting  of  his 
voice,  so  as  to  include  the  curious  passengers  in  his  ex- 
planation, "  that,  with  very  few  exceptions,  this  is  the 
usual  condition  of  the  atmosphere  at  the  entrance  to  the 
Mission  and  Presidio  of  Todos  Santos,  and  that  the  last 
exception  took  place  thirty-five  years  ago,  when  a  ship 
entered  the  harbor,  you  will  understand  why  these  dis- 
tinguished gentlemen  have  been  willing  to  waive  the 
formality  of  your  waiting  upon  them  first,  and  have  taken 
the  initiative.  The  illustrious  Comandante  has  been 
generous  to  exempt  you  from  the  usual  port  regulations, 
and  to  permit  you  to  wood  and  to  water  "  — 

"  What  port  regulation  is  he  talking  of  ?  "  asked  Cap- 
tain Bunker  testily. 

"  The  Mexican  regulations  forbidding  any  foreign  ves- 
sel to  communicate  with  the  shore,"  returned  Senor 
Perkins  deprecatingly. 

"  Never  heard  of  'em.     When  were  they  given  ?  " 

The  Senor  turned  and  addressed  a  few  words  to  the 
commander,  who  stood  apart  in  silent  dignity. 

"In  1792." 

"In  what?  — Is  he  mad?"  said  Bunker.  "Does  he 
know  what  year  this  is  ?  " 

"  The  illustrious  commander  believes  it  to  be  the  year 
of  grace  1854,"  answered  Senor  Perkins  quietly.  "  In 


52  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

the  case  of  the  only  two  vessels  who  have  touched  here 
since  1792  the  order  was  not  carried  out  because  they 
were  Mexican  coasters.  The  illustrious  Comandante  ex- 
plains that  the  order  he  speaks  of  as  on  record  distinctly 
referred  to  the  ship  *  Columbia,  which  belonged  to  the 
General  Washington.'  " 

"  General  Washington  !  "  echoed  Bunker,  angrily  star- 
ing at  the  Senor.  "  What 's  this  stuff  ?  Do  you  mean  to 
say  they  don't  know  any  history  later  than  our  old  Revo- 
lutionary War  ?  Have  n't  they  heard  of  the  United  States 
among  them  ?  Nor  California  —  that  we  took  from  them 
during  the  late  war  ?  " 

"  Nor  how  we  licked  'em  out  of  their  boots,  and  that 's 
saying  a  good  deal,"  whispered  Crosby,  glancing  at  the 
Comandante's  feet. 

Senor  Perkins  raised  a  gentle,  deprecating  hand. 

"  For  fifty  years  the  Presidio  and  the  Mission  of  Todos 
Santos  have  had  but  this  communication  with  the  outer 
world,"  he  said  blandly.  "  Hidden  by  impenetrable  fogs 
from  the  ocean  pathway  at  their  door,  cut  off  by  burning 
and  sterile  deserts  from  the  surrounding  country,  they 
have  preserved  a  trust  and  propagated  a  faith  in  enforced 
but  not  unhappy  seclusion.  The  wars  that  have  shaken 
mankind,  the  dissensions  that  have  even  disturbed  the 
serenity  of  their  own  nation  on  the  mainland,  have  never 
reached  them  here.  Left  to  themselves,  they  have  created 
a  blameless  Arcadia  and  an  ideal  community  within  an 
extent  of  twenty  square  leagues.  Why  should  we  disturb 
their  innocent  complacency  and  tranquil  enjoyment  by 
information  which  cannot  increase  and  might  impair 
their  present  felicity  ?  Why  should  we  dwell  upon  a  late 
political  and  international  episode  which,  while  it  has 
been  a  benefit  to  us,  has  been  a  humiliation  to  them  as  a 
nation,  and  which  might  not  only  imperil  our  position  as 
guests,  but  interrupt  our  practical  relations  to  the  wood 
and  water,  with  which  the  country  abounds  ?  " 


Todos  Santos.  53 

He  paused,  and  before  the  captain  could  speak,  turned 
to  the  silent  Commander,  addressed  him  in  a  dozen 
phrases  of  fluent  and  courteous  Spanish,  and  once  more 
turned  to  Captain  Bunker. 

"  I  have  told  him  you  are  touched  to  the  heart  with 
his  courtesy,  which  you  recognize  as  coming  from  the  fit 
representative  of  the  great  Mexican  nation.  He  recipro- 
cates your  fraternal  emotion,  and  begs  you  to  consider 
the  Presidio  and  all  that  it  contains,  at  your  disposition 
and  the  disposition  of  your  friends  —  the  passengers, 
particularly  those  fair  ladies,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  turn- 
ing with  graceful  promptitude  towards  the  group  of  lady 
passengers,  and  slightly  elevating  himself  on  the  tips  of 
his  neat  boots,  "whose  white  hands  he  kisses,  and  at 
whose  feet  he  lays  the  devotion  of  a  Mexican  caballero 
and  officer." 

He  waved  his  hand  towards  the  Comandante,  who, 
stepping  forward,  swept  the  deck  with  his  plumed  hat  be- 
fore each  of  the  ladies  in  solemn  succession.  Recover- 
ing himself,  he  bowed  more  stiffly  to  the  male  passengers, 
picked  his  handkerchief  out  of  the  hilt  of  his  sword, 
gracefully  wiped  his  lips,  pulled  the  end  of  his  long  gray 
moustache,  and  became  again  rigid. 

"  The  reverend  father,"  continued  Senor  Perkins,  turn- 
ing towards  the  priest,  "  regrets  that  the  rules  of  his  order 
prevent  his  extending  the  same  courtesy  to  these  ladies 
at  the  Mission.  But  he  hopes  to  meet  them  at  the  Pre- 
sidio, and  they  will  avail  themselves  of  his  aid  and  coun- 
sel there  and  everywhere." 

Father  Esteban,  following  the  speaker's  words  with  a 
gracious  and  ready  smile,  at  once  moved  forward  among 
the  passengers,  offering  an  antique  snuff-box  to  the  gentle- 
men, or  passing  before  the  ladies  with  slightly  uplifted 
benedictory  palms  and  a  caressing  paternal  gesture.  Mrs. 
Brimmer,  having  essayed  a  French  sentence,  was  delighted 


54  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

and  half  frightened  to  receive  a  response  from  the  eccle- 
siastic, and  speedily  monopolized  him  until  he  was  sum- 
moned by  the  Commander  to  the  returning  boat. 

"  A  most  accomplished  man,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Brim- 
mer, as  the  Excelsior's  cannon  again  thundered  after  the 
retiring  oars,  "  like  all  of  his  order.  He  says,  although 
Don  Miguel  does  not  speak  French,  that  his  secretary 
does  ;  and  we  shall  have  no  difficulty  in  making  ourselves 
understood." 

"  Then  you  really-  intend  to  go  ashore  ?  "  said  Miss 
Keene  timidly. 

"  Decidedly,"  returned  Mrs.  Brimmer  potentially.  "  It 
would  be  most  unpolite,  not  to  say  insulting,  if  we  did 
not  accept  the  invitation.  You  have  no  idea  of  the  strict- 
ness of  Spanish  etiquette.  Besides,  he  may  have  heard 
of  Mr.  Brimmer." 

"  As  his  last  information  was  only  up  to  1792,  he  might 
have  forgotten  it,"  said  Crosby  gravely.  "  So  perhaps  it 
would  be  safer  to  go  on  the  general  invitation." 

"  As  Mr.  Brimmer's  ancestors  came  over  on  the  May- 
flower, long  before  1792,  it  does  n't  seem  so  very  impos- 
sible, if  it  comes  to  that,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer,  with  her 
usual  unanswerable  naivete  ;  "  provided  always  that  you 
are  not  joking,  Mr.  Crosby.  One  never  knows  when  you 
are  serious." 

"  Mrs.  Brimmer  is  quite  right ;  we  must  all  go.  This  is 
no  mere  formality,"  said  Sefior  Perkins,  who  had  returned 
to  the  ladies.  "  Indeed,  I  have  myself  promised  the 
Comandante  to  bring  you"  he  turned  towards  Miss 
Keene,  "if  you  will  permit  Mrs.  Markham  and  myself 
to  act  as  your  escort.  It  was  Don  Miguel's  express  re- 
quest." 

A  slight  flush  of  pride  suffused  the  cheek  of  the  young 
girl,  but  the  next  moment  she  turned  diffidently  towards 
Mrs.  Brimmer. 


Todos  Santos.  55 

"  We  must  all  go  together,"  she  said  ;  "  shall  we  not  ? " 

"You  see  your  triumphs  have  begun  already,"  said 
Brace,  with  a  nervous  smile.  "  You  need  no  longer  laugh 
at  me  for  predicting  your  fate  in  San  Francisco." 

Miss  Keene  cast  a  hurried  glance  around  her,  in  the 
faint  hope  —  she  scarcely  knew  why  —  that  Mr.  Hurl- 
stone  had  overheard  the  Sefior's  invitation ;  nor  could 
she  tell  why  she  was  disappointed  at  not  seeing  him. 
But  he  had  not  appeared  on  deck  during  the  presence 
of  their  strange  visitors ;  nor  was  he  in  the  boat  which 
half  an  hour  later  conveyed  her  to  the  shore.  He  must 
have  either  gone  in  one  of  the  other  boats,  or  fulfilled 
his  strange  threat  of  remaining  on  the  ship. 

The  boats  pulled  away  together  towards  the  invisible 
shore,  piloted  by  Captain  Bunker,  the  first  officer,  and 
Sefior  Perkins  in  the  foremost  boat.  It  had  grown 
warmer,  and  the  fog  that  stole  softly  over  them  touched 
their  faces  with  the  tenderness  of  caressing  fingers.  Miss 
Keene,  wrapped  up  in  the  stern  sheets  of  the  boat,  gave 
way  to  the  dreamy  influence  of  this  weird  procession 
through  the  water,  retaining  only  perception  enough  to 
be  conscious  of  the  singular  illusions  of  the  mist  that  al- 
ternately thickened  and  lightened  before  their  bow.  At 
times  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  driving  full  upon  a  vast 
pier  or  breakwater  of  cold  gray  granite,  that,  opening  to 
let  the  foremost  boat  pass,  closed  again  before  them  ;  at 
times  it  seemed  as  if  they  had  diverged  from  their  course, 
and  were  once  more  upon  the  open  sea,  the  horizon  a  far- 
off  line  of  vanishing  color  ;  at  times,  faint  lights  seemed 
to  pierce  the  gathering  darkness,  or  to  move  like  will-o'- 
wisps  across  the  smooth  surface,  when  suddenly  the  keel 
grated  on  the  sand.  A  narrow  but  perfectly  well  de- 
fined strip  of  palpable  strand  appeared  before  them ;  they 
could  faintly  discern  the  moving  lower  limbs  of  figures 
whose  bodies  were  still  hidden  in  the  mist  j  then  they 


56  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

were  lifted  from  the  boats  ;  the  first  few  steps  on  dry 
land  carried  them  out  of  the  fog  that  seemed  to  rise  like 
a  sloping  roof  from  the  water's  edge,  leaving  them  under 
its  canopy  in  the  full  light  of  actual  torches  held  by  a 
group  of  picturesquely  dressed  people  before  the  vista  of 
a  faintly  lit,  narrow,  ascending  street.  The  dim  twilight 
of  the  closing  day  lingered  under  this  roof  of  fog,  which 
seemed  to  hang  scarcely  a  hundred  feet  above  them,  and 
showed  a  wall  or  rampart  of  brown  adobe  on  their  right 
that  extended  nearly  to  the  water ;  to  the  left,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  a  few  hundred  yards,  another  low  brown  wall 
appeared ;  above  it  rose  a  fringe  of  foliage,  and,  more 
distant  and  indistinct,  two  white  towers,  that  were  lost  in 
the  nebulous  gray. 

One  of  the  figures  dressed  in  green  jackets,  who  seemed 
to  be  in  authority,  now  advanced,  and,  after  a  moment's 
parley  with  Sefior  Perkins  while  the  Excelsior's  passen- 
gers were  being  collected  from  the  different  boats,  cour- 
teously led  the  way  along  the  wall  of  the  fortification. 
Presently  a  low  opening  or  gateway  appeared,  followed 
by  the  challenge  of  a  green-jacketed  sentry,  and  the  sen- 
tence, "  Dios  y  Libertad"  It  was  repeated  in  the  interior 
of  a  dusky  courtyard,  surrounded  by  a  low  corridor,  where 
a  dozen  green-jacketed  men  of  aboriginal  type  and  com- 
plexion, carrying  antique  flintlocks,  were  drawn  up  as  a 
guard  of  honor. 

"The  Comandante,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  "directs  me 
to  extend  his  apologies  to  the  Sefior  Capitano  Bunker  for 
withholding  the  salute  which  is  due  alike  to  his  country, 
himself,  and  his  fair  company ;  but  fifty  years  of  uninter- 
rupted peace  and  fog  have  left  his  cannon  inadequate  to 
polite  emergencies,  and  firmly  fixed  the  tampion  of  his 
saluting  gun.  But  he  places  the  Presidio  at  your  disposi- 
tion ;  you  will  be  pleased  to  make  its  acquaintance  while 
it  is  still  light ;  and  he  will  await  you  in  the  guard-room." 


Todos  Santos.  57 

> 
Left  to  themselves,  the  party  dispersed  like  dismissed 

school-children  through  the  courtyard  and  corridors,  and 
in  the  enjoyment  of  their  release  from  a  month's  confine- 
ment on  shipboard  stretched  their  cramped  limbs  over  the 
ditches,  walls,  and  parapets,  to  the  edge  of  the  glacis. 

Everywhere  a  ruin  that  was  picturesque,  a  decay  that 
was  refined  and  gentle,  a  neglect  that  was  graceful,  met 
the  eye  ;  the  sharp  exterior  and  reentering  angles  were 
softly  rounded  and  obliterated  by  overgrowths  of  semi- 
tropical  creepers ;  the  abatis  was  filled  by  a  natural 
brake  of  scrub-oak  and  manzanita  ;  the  clematis  flung  its 
long  scaling  ladders  over  the  escarpment,  until  Nature, 
slowly  but  securely  investing  the  doomed  fortress,  had 
lifted  a  victorious  banner  of  palm  from  the  conquered 
summit  of  the  citadel  !  Some  strange  convulsions  of  the 
earth  had  completed  the  victory ;  the  barbette  guns  of 
carved  and  antique  bronze  commemorating  fruitless  and 
long-forgotten  triumphs  were  dismounted ;  one  turned  in 
the  cheeks  of  its  carriage  had  a  trunnion  raised  piteously 
in  the  air  like  an  amputated  stump  ;  another,  sinking 
through  its  rotting  chassis,  had  buried  itself  to  its  chase 
in  the  crumbling  adobe  wall.  But  above  and  beyond  this 
gentle  chaos  of  defense  stretched  the  real  ramparts  and 
escarpments  of  Todos  Santos  —  the  impenetrable  and  un- 
assailable fog  !  Corroding  its  brass  and  iron  with  saline 
breath,  rotting  its  wood  with  unending  shadow,  sapping 
its  adobe  walls  with  perpetual  moisture,  and  nourishing 
the  obliterating  vegetation  with  its  quickening  blood,  as 
if  laughing  to  scorn  the  puny  embattlements  of  men  —  it 
still  bent  around  the  crumbling  ruins  the  tender  grace  of 
an  invisible  but  all-encompassing  arm. 

Sefior  Perkins,  who  had  acted  as  cicerone  to  the  party, 
pointed  out  these  various  mutations  with  no  change  from 
his  usual  optimism. 

"  Protected  by  their  peculiar  isolation  during  the  late 


58  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

war,  there  was  no  necessity  for  any  real  fortification  of  the 
place.  Nevertheless,  it  affords  some  occupation  and 
position  for  our  kind  friend,  Don  Miguel,  and  so  serves  a 
beneficial  purpose.  This  little  gun,"  he  continued,  stop- 
ping to  attentively  examine  a  small  but  beautifully  carved 
bronze  six-pounder,  which  showed  indications  of  better 
care  than  the  others,  "  seems  to  be  the  saluting-gun  Don 
Miguel  spoke  of.  For  the  last  fifty  years  it  has  spoken 
only  the  language  of  politeness  and  courtesy,  and  yet 
through  want  of  care  the  tampion,  as  you  see,  has  become 
swollen  and  choked  in  its  mouth." 

"  How  true  in  a  larger  sense,"  murmured  Mrs.  Mark- 
ham,  "  the  habit  of  courtesy  alone  preserves  the  fluency  of 
the  heart." 

"  I  know  you  two  are  saying  something  very  clever," 
said  Mrs.  Brimmer,  whose  small  French  slippers  and  silk 
stockings  were  beginning  to  show  their  inadequacy  to  a 
twilight  ramble  in  the  fog;  "but  I  am  so  slow,  and  I 
never  catch  the  point.  Do  repeat  it  slowly." 

"  The  Senor  was  only  showing  us  how  they  managed 
to  shut  up  a  smooth  bore  in  this  country,"  said  Crosby 
gravely.  "  I  wonder  when  we  're  going  to  have  dinner. 
I  suppose  old  Don  Quixote  will  trot  out  some  of  his 
Senoritas.  I  want  to  see  those  choir  girls  that  sang  so 
stunningly  a  while  ago." 

"  I  suppose  you  mean  the  boys  — for  they're  all  boys 
in  the  Catholic  choirs  —  but  then,  perhaps  you  are  joking 
again.  Do  tell  me  if  you  are,  for  this  is  really  amusing. 
I  may  laugh  —  may  n't  I  ?  "  As  the  discomfited  humor- 
ist fell  again  to  the  rear  amidst  the  laughter  of  the  others, 
Mrs.  Brimmer  continued  naively  to  Senor  Perkins,  —  "Of 
course,  as  Don  Miguel  is  a  widower,  there  must  be 
daughters  or  sisters-in-law  who  will  meet  us.  Why,  the 
priest,  you  know  —  even  he  —  must  have  nieces.  Really, 
it 's  a  serious  question  —  if  we  are  to  accept  his  hospital- 


Todos  Santos.  59 

ity  in  a  social  way.  Why  don't  you  ask  him  ?  "  she  said, 
pointing  to  the  green- jacketed  subaltern  who  was  accom- 
panying them. 

Senor  Perkins  looked  half  embarrassed. 

"  Repeat  your  question,  my  dear  lady,  and  I  will  trans- 
late it." 

"  Ask  him  if  there  are  any  women  at  the  Presidio." 

Senor  Perkins  drew  the  subaltern  aside.  Presently  he 
turned  to  Mrs.  Brimmer. 

"  He  says  there  are  four :  the  wife  of  the  baker,  the 
wife  of  the  saddler,  the  daughter  of  the  trumpeter,  and 
the  niece  of  the  cook." 

"  Good  heavens  !  we  can't  meet  them"  said  Mrs.  Brim- 
mer. 

Senor  Perkins  hesitated. 

"  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have  told  you,"  he  said  blandly, 
"  that  the  old  Spanish  notions  of  etiquette  are  very  strict. 
The  wives  of  the  officials  and  higher  classes  do  not  meet 
strangers  on  a  first  visit,  unless  they  are  well  known." 

"  That  is  n't  it,"  said  Winslow,  joining  them  excitedly. 
"  I  've  heard  the  whole  story.  It 's  a  good  joke.  Banks 
has  been  bragging  about  us  all,  and  saying  that  these 
ladies  had  husbands  who  were  great  merchants,  and,  as 
these  chaps  consider  that  all  trade  is  vulgar,  you  know, 
they  believe  we  are  not  fit  to  associate  with  their  women, 
don't  you  see  ?  All,  except  one  —  Miss  Keene.  She  's 
considered  all  right.  She  's  to  be  introduced  to  the  Com- 
mander's women,  and  to  the  sister  of  the  Alcalde." 

"  She  will  do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  said  Miss  Keene 
indignantly.  "  If  these  ladies  are  not  to  be  received  with 
me,  we  '11  all  go  back  to  the  ship  together." 

She  spoke  with  a  quick  and  perfectly  unexpected  reso- 
lution and  independence,  so  foreign  to  her  usual  child- 
like half  dependent  character,  that  her  hearers  were  as- 
tounded. Senor  Perkins  gazed  at  her  thoughtfully ;  Brace, 


60  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Crosby,  and  Winslow  admiringly ;  her  sister  passengers 
with  doubt  and  apprehension. 

"There  must  be  some  mistake,"  said  Senor  Perkins 
gently.  "  I  will  inquire." 

He  was  absent  but  a  few  moments.  When  he  returned, 
his  face  was  beaming. 

"  It  's  a  ridiculous  misapprehension.  Our  practical 
friend  Banks,  in  his  zealous  attempts  to  impress  the 
Comandante's  secretary,  who  knows  a  little  English, 
with  the  importance  of  Mr.  Brimmer's  position  as  a 
large  commission  merchant,  has,  I  fear,  conveyed  only 
the  idea  that  he  was  a  kind  of  pawnbroker ;  while  Mr. 
Markham's  trade  in  hides  has  established  him  as  a  tan- 
ner; and  Mr.  Banks'  own  flour  speculations,  of  which 
he  is  justly  proud,  have  been  misinterpreted  by  him  as 
the  work  of  a  successful  baker  !  " 

"And  what  idea  did  he  convey  about  you?"  asked 
Crosby  audaciously ;  "  it  might  be  interesting  to  us  to 
know,  for  our  own  satisfaction." 

"  I  fear  they  did  not  do  me  the  honor  to  inquire,"  re- 
plied Seiior  Perkins,  with  imperturbable  good-humor; 
"  there  are  some  persons,  you  know,  who  carry  all  their 
worldly  possessions  palpably  about  with  them.  I  am  one 
of  them.  Call  me  a  citizen  of  the  world,  with  a  strong 
leniency  towards  young  and  struggling  nationalities ;  a 
traveler,  at  home  anywhere  ;  a  delighted  observer  of  all 
things,  an  admirer  of  brave  men,  the  devoted  slave  of 
charming  women  —  and  you  have,  in  one  word,  a  pas- 
senger of  the  good  ship  Excelsior." 

For  the  first  time,  Miss  Keene  noticed  a  slight  irony 
in  Senor  Perkins'  superabundant  fluency,  and  that  he  did 
not  conceal  his  preoccupation  over  the  silent  saluting  gun 
he  was  still  admiring.  The  approach  of  Don  Miguel  and 
Padre  Esteban  with  a  small  bevy  of  ladies,  however,  quickly 
changed  her  thoughts,  and  detached  the  Senor  from  her 


Todos  Santos.  61 

side.  Her  first  swift  feminine  impression  of  the  fair 
strangers  was  that  they  were  plain  and  dowdy,  an  impres- 
sion fully  shared  by  the  other  lady  passengers.  But  her 
second  observation,  that  they  were  more  gentle,  fascinat- 
ing, child-like,  and  feminine  than  her  own  countrywomen, 
was  purely  her  own.  Their  loose,  undulating  figures,  guilt- 
less of  stays ;  their  extravagance  of  short,  white,  heavily 
flounced  skirt,  which  looked  like  a  petticoat ;  their  lightly 
wrapped,  formless,  and  hooded  shoulders  and  heads,  lent 
a  suggestion  of  dishabille  that  Mrs.  Brimmer  at  once  re- 
sented. 

"  They  might,  at  least,  have  dressed  themselves,"  she 
whispered  to  Mrs.  Markham. 

"  I  really  believe,"  returned  Mrs.  Markham,  "  they  Ve 
got  no  bodices  on  !  " 

The  introductions  over,  a  polyglot  conversation  ensued 
in  French  by  the  Padre  and  Mrs.  Brimmer,  and  in  broken 
English  by  Miss  Chubb,  Miss  Keene,  and  the  other  pas- 
sengers with  the  Commander's  secretary,  varied  by  occa- 
sional scraps  of  college  Latin  from  Mr.  Crosby,  the  whole 
aided  by  occasional  appeals  to  Senor  Perkins.  The  dark- 
ness increasing,  the  party  reentered  the  courtyard,  and, 
passing  through  the  low-studded  guard-room,  entered 
another  corridor,  which  looked  upon  a  second  court,  en- 
closed on  three  sides,  the  fourth  opening  upon  a  broad 
plaza,  evidently  the  public  resort  of  the  little  town.  En- 
compassing this  open  space,  a  few  red-tiled  roofs  could 
be  faintly  seen  in  the  gathering  gloom.  Chocolate  and 
thin  spiced  cakes  were  served  in  the  veranda,  pending 
the  preparations  for  a  more  formal  banquet.  Already 
Miss  Keene  had  been  singled  out  from  her  companions 
for  the  special  attentions  of  her  hosts,  male  and  female, 
to  her  embarrassment  and  confusion.  Already  Dona 
Isabel,  the  sister  of  the  Alcalde,  had  drawn  her  aside, 
and,  with  caressing  frankness,  had  begun  to  question  her 
in  broken  English,  — 


62  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  But  Mrss  Keene  is  no  name.  The  Dona  Keene  is 
of  nothing." 

"  Well,  you  may  call  me  Eleanor,  if  you  like,"  said 
Miss  Keene,  smiling. 

"Dona  Leonor — so;  that  is  good,"  said  Dona  Isabel, 
clapping  her  hands  like  a  child.  "  But  how  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Miss  Keene,  greatly  amused, 
"  but  I  don't  understand." 

"  Ah,  Caramba  !  What  are  you,  little  one  ? "  Seeing 
that  her  guest  still  looked  puzzled,  she  continued, — 
"  Ah  !  Mother  of  God  !  Why  are  your  friends  so  polite 
to  you  ?  Why  does  every  one  love  you  so  ?  " 

"  Do  they  ?  Well,"  stammered  Miss  Keene,  with  one 
of  her  rare,  dazzling  smiles,  and  her  cheeks  girlishly  rosy 
with  naive  embarrassment,  "  I  suppose  they  think  I  am 
pretty." 

"  Pretty  !  Ah,  yes,  you  are  !  "  said  Dona  Isabel,  gazing 
at  her  curiously.  "  But  it  is  not  all  that." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?  "  asked  Miss  Keene  demurely. 

"  You  are  a  —  a  —  Dama  de  Grandeza !  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

"HAIL  AND  FAREWELL. 

SUPPER  was  served  in  the  inner  room  opening  from  the 
corridor  lit  by  a  few  swinging  lanterns  of  polished  horn 
and  a  dozen  wax  candles  of  sacerdotal  size  and  sugges- 
tion. The  apartment,  though  spacious,  was  low  and 
crypt-like,  and  was  not  relieved  by  the  two  deep  oven- 
like  hearths  that  warmed  it  without  the  play  of  firelight. 
But  when  the  company  had  assembled  it  was  evident 
that  the  velvet  jackets,  gold  lace,  silver  buttons,  and  red 
sashes  of  the  entertainers  not  only  lost  their  tawdry  and 
theatrical  appearance  in  the  half  decorous  and  thought- 
ful gloom,  but  actually  seemed  more  in  harmony  with  it 
than  the  modern  dresses  of  the  guests.  It  was  the  Ex- 
celsior party  who  looked  strange  and  bizarre  in  these 
surroundings  ;  to  the  sensitive  fancy  of  Miss  Keene,  Mrs. 
Brimmer's  Parisian  toilet  had  an  air  of  provincial  as- 
sumption ;  her  own  pretty  Zouave  jacket  and  black  silk 
skirt  horrified  her  with  its  apparent  ostentatious  eccen- 
tricity; and  Mrs.  Markham  and  Miss  Chubb  seemed 
dowdy  and  overdressed  beside  the  satin  mantillas  and 
black  lace  of  the  Senoritas.  Nor  were  the  gentlemen 
less  outres :  the  stiff  correctness  of  Mr.  Banks,  and  the 
lighter  foppishness  of  Winslow  and  Crosby,  not  to  men- 
tion Senor  Perkins'  more  pronounced  unconventionality, 
appeared  as  burlesques  of  their  own  characters  in  a  play. 
The  crowning  contrast  was  reached  by  Captain  Bunker, 
who,  in  accordance  with  the  habits  of  the  mercantile  ma- 
rine of  that  period  when  in  port,  wore  a  shore-going  suit 


64  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

of  black  broadcloth,  with  a  tall  hat,  high  shirt  collar,  and 
diamond  pin.  Seated  next  to  the  Commander,  it  was  no 
longer  Don  Miguel  who  looked  old-fashioned,  it  was 
Captain  Bunker  who  appeared  impossible. 

Nevertheless,  as  the  meal  progressed,  lightened  by  a 
sweet  native  wine  made  from  the  Mission  grape,  and 
stimulated  by  champagne  —  a  present  of  Captain  Bunker 
from  the  cabin  lockers  of  the  Excelsior  —  this  con- 
trast, and  much  of  the  restraint  that  it  occasioned,  seemed 
to  melt  away.  The  passengers  became  talkative  ;  the 
Commander  and  his  friends  unbent,  and  grew  sympa- 
thetic and  inquiring.  The  temptation  to  recite  the  news 
of  the  last  half  century,  and  to  recount  the  wonderful 
strides  of  civilization  in  that  time,  was  too  great  to  be 
resisted  by  the  Excelsior  party.  That  some  of  them  — 
notwithstanding  the  caution  of  Senor  Perkins  —  ap- 
proached dangerously  near  the  subject  of  the  late  war 
between  the  United  States  and  Mexico,  of  which  Todos 
Santos  was  supposed  to  be  still  ignorant,  or  that  Crosby 
in  particular  seized  upon  this  opportunity  for  humorous 
exaggeration,  may  be  readily  imagined.  But  as  the 
translation  of  the  humorist's  speech,  as  well  as  the  indis- 
cretions of  his  companions,  were  left  to  the  Senor,  in 
Spanish,  and  to  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Miss  Keene,  in 
French,  any  imminent  danger  to  the  harmony  of  the 
evening  was  averted.  Don  Ramon  Ramirez,  the  Alcalde, 
a  youngish  man  of  evident  distinction,  sat  next  to  Miss 
Keene,  and  monopolized  her  conversation  with  a  certain 
curiosity  that  was  both  grave  and  childish  in  its  frank 
trustfulness.  Some  of  his  questions  were  so  simple  and 
incompatible  with  his  apparent  intelligence  that  she  un- 
consciously lowered  her  voice  in  answering  them,  in 
dread  of  the  ridicule  of  her  companions.  She  could  not 
resist  the  impression,  which  repeatedly  obtruded  upon  her 
imagination,  that  the  entire  population  of  Todos  Santos 


"Hail  and  Farewell''  65 

were  a  party  of  lost  children,  forgotten  by  their  parents, 
and  grown  to  man  and  womanhood  in  utter  ignorance  of 
the  world. 

The  Commander  had,  half  informally,  drunk  the  health 
of  Captain  Bunker,  without  rising  from  his  seat,  when,  to 
Miss  Keene's  alarm,  Captain  Bunker  staggered  to  his 
feet.  He  had  been  drinking  freely,  as  usual ;  but  he  was 
bent  on  indulging  a  loquacity  which  his  discipline  on 
shipboard  had  hitherto  precluded,  and  which  had,  per- 
haps, strengthened  his  solitary  habit.  His  speech  was 
voluble  and  incoherent,  complimentary  and  tactless, 
kindly  and  aggressive,  courteous  and  dogmatic.  It  was 
left  to  Senor  Perkins  to  translate  it  to  the  eye  and  ear  of 
his  host  without  incongruity  or  offense.  This  he  did  so 
admirably  as  to  elicit  not  only  the  applause  of  the  for- 
eigners who  did  not  understand  English,  but  of  his  own 
countrymen  who  did  not  understand  Spanish. 

"  I  feel,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  in  graceful  peroration, 
"  that  I  have  done  poor  justice  to  the  eloquence  of  this 
gallant  sailor.  My  unhappy  translation  cannot  offer  you 
that  voice,  at  times  trembling  with  generous  emotion,  and 
again  inaudible  from  excessive  modesty  in  the  presence 
of  this  illustrious  assembly  —  those  limbs  that  waver  and 
bend  under  the  undulations  of  the  chivalrous  sentiment 
which  carries  him  away  as  if  he  were  still  on  that  power- 
ful element  he  daily  battles  with  and  conquers." 

But  when  coffee  and  sweets  were  reached,  the  crowning 
triumph  of  Senor  Perkins'  oratory  was  achieved.  After 
an  impassioned  burst  of  enthusiasm  towards  his  hosts  in 
their  own  tongue,  he  turned  towards  his  own  party  with 
bland  felicity. 

"  And  how  is  it  with  us,  dear  friends  ?  We  find  our- 
selves not  in  the  port  we  were  seeking ;  not  in  the  goal 
of  our  ambition,  the  haven  of  our  hopes ;  but  on  the 
shores  of  the  decaying  past.  *  Ever  drifting '  on  one  of 
those  — 


66  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

'  Shifting 
Currents  of  the  restless  main,' 

if  our  fascinating  friend  Mrs.  Brimmer  will  permit  us  to 
use  the  words  of  her  accomplished  fellow-townsman,  H. 
W.  Longfellow,  of  Boston  —  we  find  ourselves  borne  not 
to  the  busy  hum  and  clatter  of  modern  progress,  but  to  the 
soft  cadences  of  a  dying  crusade,  and  the  hush  of  eccle- 
siastical repose.  In  place  of  the  busy  marts  of  commerce 
and  the  towering  chimneys  of  labor,  we  have  the  ruined 
embattlements  of  a  warlike  age,  and  the  crumbling 
church  of  an  ancient  Mission.  Towards  the  close  of  an 
eventful  voyage,  during  which  we  have  been  guided  by  the 
skillful  hand  and  watchful  eye  of  that  gallant  navigator 
Captain  Bunker,  we  have  turned  aside  from  our  onward 
course  of  progress  to  look  back  for  a  moment  upon  the 
faded  footprints  of  those  who  have  so  long  preceded  us, 
who  have  lived  according  to  their  lights,  and  whose  rec- 
ord is  now  before  us.  As  I  have  just  stated,  our  journey 
is  near  its  end,  and  we  may,  in  some  sense,  look  upon  this 
occasion,  with  its  sumptuous  entertainment,  and  its  goodly 
company  of  gallant  men  and  fair  women,  as  a  parting 
banquet.  Our  voyage  has  been  a  successful  one.  I  do 
not  now  especially  speak  of  the  daring  speculations  of 
the  distinguished  husband  of  a  beautiful  lady  whose  de- 
lightful society  is  known  to  us  all  —  need  I  say  I  refer  to 
Quincy  Brimmer,  Esq.,  of  Boston "  (loud  applause)  — 
"  whose  successful  fulfillment  of  a  contract  with  the  Peru- 
vian Government,  and  the  landing  of  munitions  of  war  at 
Callao,  has  checked  the  uprising  of  the  Quinquinambo  in- 
surgents ?  I  do  not  refer  especially  to  our  keen-sighted 
business  friend  Mr.  Banks "  (applause),  "  who,  by  buying 
up  all  the  flour  in  Callao,  and  shipping  it  to  California, 
has  virtually  starved  into  submission  the  revolutionary 
party  of  Ariquipa  —  I  do  not  refer  to  these  admirable  il- 
lustrations of  the  relations  of  commerce  and  politics,  for 


"Hail  and  Farewell?  67 

this,  my  friends  —  this  is  history,  and  beyond  my  feeble 
praise.  Let  me  rather  speak  of  the  social  and  literary 
triumphs  of  our  little  community,  of  our  floating  Arcadia 
—  may  I  say  Olympus?  Where  shall  we  find  another 
Minerva  like  Mrs.  Markham,  another  Thalia  like  Miss 
Chubb,  another  Juno  like  Mrs.  Brimmer,  worthy  of  the 
Jove-like  Quincy  Brimmer  ;  another  Queen  of  Love  and 
Beauty  like  —  like  "  —  continued  the  gallant  Senor,  with 
an  effective  oratorical  pause,  and  a  profound  obeisance  to 
Miss  Keene,  "  like  one  whose  mantling  maiden  blushes 
forbid  me  to  name  ?  "  (Prolonged  applause.)  "  Where 
shall  we  find  more  worthy  mortals  to  worship  them  than 
our  young  friends,  the  handsome  Brace,  the  energetic 
Winslow,  the  humorous  Crosby  ?  When  we  look  back 
upon  our  concerts  and  plays,  our  minstrel  entertainments, 
with  the  incomparable  performances  of  our  friend  Crosby 
as  Brother  Bones;  our  recitations,  to  which  the  genius  of 
Mrs.  M'Corkle,  of  Peoria,  Illinois,  has  lent  her  charm 
and  her  manuscript  "  (a  burlesque  start  of  terror  from 
Crosby),  "  I  am  forcibly  impelled  to  quote  the  impas- 
sioned words  from  that  gifted  woman,  — 

'  When  idly  Life's  barque  on  the  billows  of  Time, 

Drifts  hither  and  yon  by  eternity's  sea  ; 
On  the  swift  feet  of  verse  and  the  pinions  of  rhyme 
My  thoughts,  Ulricardo,  fly  ever  to  thee  ! '  " 

"Who's  Ulricardo?"  interrupted  Crosby,  with  as- 
sumed eagerness,  followed  by  a  "  hush ! "  from  the  ladies. 

"  Perhaps  I  should  have  anticipated  our  friend's  hu- 
morous question,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  with  unassailable 
good-humor.  "  Ulricardo,  though  not  my  own  name,  is  a 
poetical  substitute  for  it,  and  a  mere  figure  of  apostrophe. 
The  poem  is  personal  to  myself,"  he  continued,  with  a 
slight  increase  of  color  in  his  smooth  cheek  - —  which  did 
not  escape  the  attention  of  the  ladies,  — "  purely  as  an 
exigency  of  verse,  and  that  the  inspired  authoress  might 


68  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

more  easily  express  herself  to  a  friend.  My  acquaintance 
with  Mrs.  M'Corkle  has  been  only  epistolary.  Pardon 
this  digression,  my  friends,  but  an  allusion  to  the  muse 
of  poetry  did  not  seem  to  me  to  be  inconsistent  with  our 
gathering  here.  Let  me  briefly  conclude  by  saying  that 
the  occasion  is  a  happy  and  memorable  one ;  I  think  I 
echo  the  sentiment  of  all  present  when  I  add  that  it  is 
one  which  will  not  be  easily  forgotten  by  either  the  grate- 
ful guests,  whose  feelings  I  have  tried  to  express,  or  the 
chivalrous  hosts,  whose  kindness  I  have  already  so  feebly 
translated." 

In  the  applause  that  followed,  and  the  clicking  of 
glasses,  Senor  Perkins  slipped  away.  He  mingled  a 
moment  with  some  of  the  other  guests  who  had  already 
withdrawn  to  the  corridor,  lit  a  cigar,  and  then  passed 
through  a  narrow  doorway  on  to  the  ramparts.  Here  he 
strolled  to  some  distance,  as  if  in  deep  thought,  until  he 
reached  a  spot  where  the  crumbling  wall  and  its  fallen 
de'bris  afforded  an  easy  descent  into  the  ditch.  Follow- 
ing the  ditch,  he  turned  an  angle,  and  came  upon  the 
beach,  and  the  low  sound  of  oars  in  the  invisible  offing. 
A  whistle  brought  the  boat  to  his  feet,  and  without  a 
word  he  stepped  into  the  stern  sheets.  A  few  strokes  of 
the  oars  showed  him  that  the  fog  had  lifted  slightly  from 
the  water,  and  a  green  light  hanging  from  the  side  of  the 
Excelsior  could  be  plainly  seen.  Ten  minutes'  more 
steady  pulling  placed  him  on  her  deck,  where  the  second 
officer  stood  with  a  number  of  the  sailors  listlessly 
grouped  around  him. 

"  The  landing  has  been  completed  ?  "  said  Senor  Per- 
kins interrogatively. 

"  All  except  one  boat-load  more,  which  waits  to  take 
your  final  instructions,"  said  the  mate.  "  The  men  have 
growled  a  little  about  it,"  he  added,  in  a  lower  tone. 
"  They  don't  want  to  lose  anything,  it  seems,"  he  con- 
tinued, with  a  half  sarcastic  laugh. 


"Hail  and  Farewell?  69 

Senor  Perkins  smiled  peculiarly. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  disappoint  them.  Who 's  that  in  the 
boat  ?  "  he  asked  suddenly. 

The  mate  followed  the  Sefior's  glance. 

"It  is  Yoto.  He  says  he  is  going  ashore,  and  you  will 
not  forbid  him." 

Senor  Perkins  approached  the  ship's  side. 

"  Come  here,"  he  said  to  the  man. 

The  Peruvian  sailor  rose,  but  did  not  make  the  slight- 
est movement  to  obey  the  command. 

"  You  say  you  are  going  ashore  ? "  said  Perkins 
blandly. 

"  Yes,  Patrono." 

"What  for?" 

"  To  follow  him  —  the  thief,  the  assassin  —  who  struck 
me  here ; "  he  pointed  to  his  head.  "  He  has  escaped 
again  with  his  booty." 

"  You  are  very  foolish,  my  Yoto  ;  he  is  no  thief,  and 
has  no  booty.  They  will  put  you  in  prison,  not  him." 

"You  say  so,"  said  the  man  surlily.  "Perhaps  they 
will  hear  me  —  for  other  things,"  he  added  significantly. 

"  And  for  this  you  would  abandon  the  cause  ? " 

The  man  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"  Why  not  ? "  he  glanced  meaningly  at  two  of  his  com- 
panions, who  had  approached  the  side ;  "  perhaps  others 
would.  Who  is  sending  the  booty  ashore,  eh  ?  " 

"  Come  out  of  that  boat,"  said  the  Senor,  leaning  over 
the  bulwarks  with  folded  arms,  and  his  eyes  firmly  fixed 
on  the  man. 

The  man  did  not  move.  But  the  Senor's  hand  sud- 
denly flew  to  the  back  of  his  neck,  smote  violently  down- 
wards, and  sent  eighteen  inches  of  glittering  steel  hurtling 
through  the  air.  The  bowie-knife  entered  the  upturned 
throat  of  the  man  and  buried  itself  halfway  to  the  hilt. 
Without  a  gasp  or  groan  he  staggered  forward,  caught 


70  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

wildly  at  the  side  of  the  ship,  and  disappeared  between 
the  boat  and  the  vessel. 

"  My  lads,"  said  Senor  Perkins,  turning  with  a  gentle 
smile  towards  the  faces  that  in  the  light  of  the  swinging 
lantern  formed  a  ghastly  circle  around  him,  "  when  I 
boarded  this  ship  that  had  brought  aid  and  succor  to  our 
oppressors  at  Callao,  I  determined  to  take  possession  of 
it  peacefully,  without  imperiling  the  peace  and  property 
of  the  innocent  passengers  who  were  intrusted  to  its  care, 
and  without  endangering  your  own  lives  or  freedom.  But 
I  made  no  allowance  for  traitors.  The  blood  that  has 
been  shed  to-night  has  not  been  spilt  in  obedience  to  my 
orders,  nor  to  the  cause  that  we  serve  ;  it  was  from  de- 
fiance of  it ;  and  the  real  and  only  culprit  has  just  atoned 
for  it." 

He  stopped,  and  then  stepped  back  from  the  gangway, 
as  if  to  leave  it  open  to  the  men. 

"What  I  have  done,"  he  continued  calmly,  "  I  do  not 
ask  you  to  consider  either  as  an  example  or  a  warning. 
You  are  free  to  do  what  he  would  have  done,"  he  re- 
peated, with  a  wave  of  his  hand  towards  the  open  gang- 
way and  the  empty  boat.  "  You  are  free  to  break  your 
contract  and  leave  the  ship,  and  I  give  you  my  word  that 
I  will  not  lift  a  hand  to  prevent  it.  But  if  you  stay  with 
me,"  he  said,  suddenly  turning  upon  them  a  face  as  livid 
as  their  own,  "  I  swear  by  the  living  God,  that,  if  between 
this  and  the  accomplishment  of  my  design,  you  as  much 
as  shirk  or  question  any  order  given  by  me,  you  shall  die 
the  death  of  that  dog  who  went  before  you.  Choose  as 
you  please  —  but  quickly." 

The  mate  was  the  first  to  move.  Without  a  word,  he 
crossed  over  to  the  Senor's  side.  The  men  hesitated  a 
moment  longer,  until  one,  with  a  strange  foreign  cry, 
threw  himself  on  his  knees  before  the  Senor,  ejaculating, 
"  Pardon  !  pardon  !  "  The  others  followed,  some  impul- 


"Hail  and  Farewell?  71 

sively  catching  at  the  hand  that  had  just  slain  their  com- 
rade, and  covering  it  with  kisses  ! 

"  Pardon,  Patrono  —  we  are  yours." 

"You  are  the  State's,"  said  Senor  Perkins  coldly,  with 
every  vestige  of  his  former  urbanity  gone  from  his  color- 
less face.  "  Enough !  Go  back  to  your  duty."  He 
watched  them  slink  away,  and  then  turned  to  the  mate. 
"  Get  the  last  boat-load  ready,  and  report  to  me." 

From  that  moment  another  power  seemed  to  domi- 
nate the  ship.  The  men  no  longer  moved  listlessly,  or 
slunk  along  the  deck  with  perfunctory  limbs ;  a  feverish 
haste  and  eagerness  possessed  them ;  the  boat  was 
quickly  loaded,  and  the  mysterious  debarkation  completed 
in  rapidity  and  silence.  This  done,  the  fog  once  more 
appeared  to  rise  from  the  water  and  softly  encompass 
the  ship,  until  she  seemed  to  be  obliterated  from  its  face. 
In  this  vague  obscurity,  from  time  to  time,  the  faint  rat- 
tling of  chains  was  heard,  the  soft  creaking  of  blocks,  and 
later  on,  the  regular  rise  and  fall  of  oars.  And  then  the 
darkness  fell  heavier,  the  sounds  became  more  and  more 
indistinct  and  were  utterly  lost. 

Ashore,  however,  the  lanterns  still  glittered  brightly  in 
the  courtyard  of  the  Presidio ;  the  noise  of  laughter  and 
revel  still  came  from  the  supper-room,  and,  later,  the 
tinkling  of  guitars  and  rhythmical  clapping  hands  showed 
that  the  festivities  were  being  wound  up  by  a  characteris- 
tic fandango.  Captain  Bunker  succumbed  early  to  his 
potations  of  fiery  aguardiente,  and  was  put  to  bed  in  the 
room  of  the  Commander,  to  whom  he  had  sworn  eternal 
friendship  and  alliance.  It  was  long  past  midnight  before 
the  other  guests  were  disposed  of  in  the  various  quarters 
of  the  Presidio  ;  but  to  the  ladies  were  reserved  the  more 
ostentatious  hospitalities  of  the  Alcalde  himself,  the  walls 
of  whose  ambitious  hacienda  raised  themselves  across  the 
plaza  and  overlooked  the  gardens  of  the  Mission. 


72  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

It  was  from  one  of  the  deep,  quaintly  barred  windows 
of,  the  hacienda  that  Miss  Keene  gazed  thoughtfully  on 
the  night,  unable  to  compose  herself  to  sleep.  An  antique 
guest-chamber  had  been  assigned  to  her  in  deference  to 
her  wish  to  be  alone,  for  which  she  had  declined  the 
couch  and  vivacious  prattle  of  her  new  friend,  Dona  Isa- 
bel. The  events  of  the  day  had  impressed  her  more 
deeply  than  they  had  her  companions,  partly  from  her 
peculiar  inexperience  of  the  world,  and  partly  from  her 
singular  sensitiveness  to  external  causes.  The  whole 
quaint  story  of  the  forgotten  and  isolated  settlement, 
which  had  seemed  to  the  other  passengers  as  a  trivial 
and  half  humorous  incident,  affected  her  imagination  pro- 
foundly. When  she  could  escape  the  attentions  of  her 
entertainers,  or  the  frivolities  of  her  companions,  she 
tried  to  touch  the  far-off  past  on  the  wings  of  her  fancy ; 
she  tried  to  imagine  the  life  of  those  people,  forgetting 
the  world  and  forgotten  by  it ;  she  endeavored  to  picture 
the  fifty  years  of  solitude  amidst  these  decaying  ruins, 
over  which  even  ambition  had  crumbled  and  fallen.  It 
seemed  to  her  the  true  conventual  seclusion  from  the 
world  without  the  loss  of  kinship  or  home  influences; 
she  contrasted  it  with  her  boarding-school  life  in  the 
fashionable  seminary ;  she  wondered  what  she  would 
have  become  had  she  been  brought  up  here ;  she  thought 
of  the  happy  ignorance  of  Dona  Isabel,  and  —  shud- 
dered ;  and  yet  she  felt  herself  examining  the  odd  furni- 
ture of  the  room  with  an  equally  childlike  and  admiring 
curiosity.  And  these  people  looked  upon  her  as  a  supe- 
rior being ! 

From  the  deep  embrasure  of  the  window  she  could 
see  the  tops  of  the  pear  and  olive  trees,  in  the  misty  light 
of  an  invisible  moon  that  suffused  the  old  Mission  garden 
with  an  ineffable  and  angelic  radiance.  To  her  religious 
fancy  it  seemed  to  be  a  spiritual  effusion  of  the  church 


"Hail  and  Farewell?  73 

itself,  enveloping  the  two  gray  dome-shaped  towers  with 
an  atmosphere  and  repose  of  its  own,  until  it  became  the 
incarnate  mystery  and  passion  where  it  stood. 

She  was  suddenly  startled  by  a  moving  shadow  beside 
the  wall,  almost  immediately  below  her  —  the  figure  of  a 
man  !  He  was  stealing  cautiously  towards  the  church,  as 
if  to  gain  the  concealment  of  the  shrubbery  that  grew 
beside  it,  and,  furtively  glancing  from  side  to  side,  looked 
towards  her  window.  She  unconsciously  drew  back,  for- 
getting at  the  moment  that  her  light  was  extinguished, 
and  that  it  was  impossible  for  the  stranger  to  see  her. 
But  she  had  seen  him,  and  in  that  instant  recognized  Mr. 
Hurlstone ! 

Then  he  had  come  ashore,  and  secretly,  for  the  other 
passengers  believed  him  still  on  the  ship  !  But  what  was 
he  doing  there  ?  —  and  why  had  he  not  appeared  with  the 
others  at  the  entertainment  ?  She  could  understand  his 
avoidance  of  them  from  what  she  knew  of  his  reserved 
and  unsocial  habits ;  but  when  he  could  so  naturally  have 
remained  on  shipboard,  she  could  not,  at  first,  conceive 
why  he  should  wish  to  prowl  around  the  town  at  the  risk 
of  detection.  The  idea  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  he 
had  had  another  attack  of  his  infirmity  and  was  walking 
in  his  sleep,  and  for  an  instant  she  thought  of  alarming 
the  house,  that  some  one  might  go  to  his  assistance.  But 
his  furtive  movements  had  not  the  serene  impassibility  of 
the  somnambulist.  Another  thought  withheld  her;  he 
had  looked  up  at  her  window !  Did  he  know  she  was 
there?  A  faint  stirring  of  shame  and  pleasure  sent  a 
slight  color  to  her  cheek.  But  he  had  gained  the  corner 
of  the  shrubbery  and  was  lost  in  the  shadow.  She 
turned  from  the  window.  A  gentle  sense  of  vague  and 
half  maternal  pity  suffused  her  soft  eyes  as  she  at  last 
sought  her  couch  and  fell  into  a  deep  slumber. 

Towards  daybreak  a  wind  arose  over  the  sleeping  town 


74  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

and  far  outlying  waters.  It  breathed  through  the  leaves 
of  the  Mission  garden,  brushed  away  the  clinging  mists 
from  the  angles  of  the  towers,  and  restored  the  sharp 
outlines  of  the  ruined  fortifications.  It  swept  across  the 
unruffled  sea  to  where  the  Excelsior,  cradled  in  the  softly 
heaving  bay,  had  peacefully  swung  at  anchor  on  the  pre- 
vious night,  and  lifted  the  snowy  curtain  of  the  fog  to 
seaward  as  far  as  the  fringe  of  surf,  a  league  away. 

But  the  cradle  of  the  deep  was  empty  —  the  ship  was 
gone  ! 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE  GENTLE  CASTAWAYS. 

Miss  KEENE  was  awakened  from  a  heavy  sleep  by  a 
hurried  shake  of  her  shoulder  and  an  indefinite  feeling  of 
alarm.  Opening  her  eyes,  she  was  momentarily  dazed  by 
the  broad  light  of  day,  and  the  spectacle  of  Mrs.  Brimmer, 
pale  and  agitated,  in  a  half-Spanish  dishabille,  standing 
at  her  bedside. 

"  Get  up  and  dress  yourself,  my  dear,  at  once,"  she 
said  hurriedly,  but  at  the  same  time  attentively  examining 
Miss  Keene's  clothes,  that  were  lying  on  the  chair  :  "  and 
thank  Heaven  you  came  here  in  an  afternoon  dress,  and 
not  in  an  evening  costume  like  mine !  For  something 
awful  has  happened,  and  Heaven  only  knows  whether 
we  '11  ever  see  a  stitch  of  our  clothes  again." 

"  What  has  happened  ? "  asked  Miss  Keene  impa- 
tiently, sitting  up  in  bed,  more  alarmed  at  the  unusual 
circumstance  of  Mrs.  Brimmer's  unfinished  toilet  than 
at  her  incomplete  speech. 

"  What,  indeed  !  Nobody  knows  ;  but  it 's  something 
awful  —  a  mutiny,  or  shipwreck,  or  piracy.  But  there  's 
your  friend,  the  Commander,  calling  out  the  troops  ;  and 
such  a  set  of  Christy  Minstrels  you  never  saw  before ! 
There 's  the  Alcalde  summoning  the  Council ;  there  's 
Mr.  Banks  raving,  and  running  round  for  a  steamboat  — 
as  if  these  people  ever  heard  of  such  a  thing !  —  and 
Captain  Bunker,  what  with  rage  and  drink,  gone  off  in  a 
fit  of  delirium  tremens,  and  locked  up  in  his  room  !  And 
the  Excelsior  gone  —  the  Lord  knows  where  !  " 


76  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Gone ! "  repeated  Miss  Keene,  hurrying  on  her 
clothes.  "  Impossible  !  What  does  Father  Esteban  tell 
you  ?  What  does  Dona  Isabel  say  ?  " 

"  That 's  the  most  horrible  part  of  it !  Do  you  know 
those  wretched  idiots  believe  it 's  some  political  revolu- 
tion among  ourselves,  like  their  own  miserable  govern- 
ment. I  believe  that  baby  Isabel  thinks  that  King 
George  and  Washington  have  something  to  do  with  it ; 
at  any  rate,  they  're  anxious  to  know  to  what  side  you 
belong  !  So,  for  goodness'  sake !  if  you  have  to  humor 
them,  say  we  're  all  on  the  same  side  —  I  mean,  don't 
you  and  Mrs.  Markham  go  against  Miss  Chubb  and  me." 

Scarcely  knowing  whether  to  laugh  or  cry  at  Mrs. 
Brimmer's  incoherent  statement,  Miss  Keene  hastily  fin- 
ished dressing  as  the  door  flew  open  to  admit  the  impul- 
sive Doha  Isabel  and  her  sister  Juanita.  The  two  Mex- 
ican girls  threw  themselves  in  Miss  Keene's  arms,  and 
then  suddenly  drew  back  with  a  movement  of  bashful  and 
diffident  respect. 

"Do,  pray,  ask  them,  for  I  dare  n't,"  whispered  Mrs. 
Brimmer,  trying  to  clasp  a  mantilla  around  her,  "  how 
this  thing  is  worn,  and  if  they  have  n't  got  something  like 
a  decent  bonnet  to  lend  me  for  a  day  or  two  ?  " 

"  The  Sefiora  has  not  then  heard  that  her  goods,  and 
all  the  goods  of  the  Senores  and  Senoras,  have  been  dis- 
covered safely  put  ashore  at  the  Embarcadero  ? " 

"  No  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Brimmer  eagerly. 

"  Ah,  yes  !  "  responded  Dona  Isabel.  "  Since  the 
Sefiora  is  not  of  the  revolutionary  party." 

Mrs.  Brimmer  cast  a  supplicatory  look  at  Miss  Keene, 
and  hastily  quitted  the  room.  Miss  Keene  would  have 
as  quickly  followed  her,  but  the  young  Ramirez  girls 
threw  themselves  again  tragically  upon  her  breast,  and, 
with  a  mysterious  gesture  of  silence,  whispered,  — 

"  Fear  nothing,  Excellencia  !     We  are  yours  —  we  will 


The  Gentle  Castaways.  77 

die  for  you,  no  matter  what  Don  Ramon,  or  the  Coman- 
dante,  or  the  Ayuntamiento,  shall  decide.  Trust  us,  little 
one!  —  pardon  —  Excellencia,  we  mean." 

"What  is  the  matter?"  said  Miss  Keene,  now  thor- 
oughly alarmed,  and  releasing  herself  from  the  twining 
arms  about  her.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  let  me  go  !  I 
must  see  somebody  !  Where  is  —  where  is  Mrs.  Mark- 
ham  ? " 

"  The  Markham  ?  Is  it  the  severe  one  ?  —  as  thus," 
—  said  Dona  Isabel,  striking  an  attitude  of  infantine 
portentousness. 

"  Yes,"  said  Miss  Keene,  smiling  in  spite  of  her  alarm. 

"  She  is  arrested." 

"  Arrested  ! "  said  Eleanor  Keene,  her  cheeks  aflame 
with  indignation.  "  For  what  ?  Who  dare  do  this 
thing?" 

"The  Comandante.  She  has  a  missive — a  despatch 
from  the  insurrectionaries." 

Without  another  word,  and  feeling  that  she  could 
stand  the  suspense  no  longer,  Miss  Keene  forced  her 
way  past  the  young  girls,  unheeding  their  cries  of  con- 
sternation and  apology,  and  quickly  reached  the  patio. 
A  single  glance  showed  her  that  Mrs.  Brimmer  was  gone. 
With  eyes  and  cheeks  still  burning,  she  swept  past  the 
astounded  peons,  through  the  gateway,  into  the  open 
plaza.  Only  one  idea  filled  her  mind  —  to  see  the  Com- 
mander, and  demand  the  release  of  her  friend.  How 
she  should  do  it,  with  what  arguments  she  should  enforce 
her  demand,  never  occurred  to  her.  She  did  not  even 
think  of  asking  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Brace,  Mr.  Crosby, 
or  any  of  her  fellow-passengers.  The  consciousness  of 
some  vague  crisis  that  she  alone  could  meet  possessed 
her  completely. 

The  plaza  was  swarming  with  a  strange  rabble  of 
peons  and  soldiery ;  of  dark,  lowering  faces,  odd-looking 


78  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

weapons  and  costumes,  mules,  mustangs,  and  cattle  —  a 
heterogeneous  mass,  swayed  by  some  fierce  excitement. 
That  she  saw  none  of  the  Excelsior  party  among  them 
did  not  surprise  her ;  an  instinct  of  some  catastrophe 
more  serious  than  Mrs.  Brimmer's  vague  imaginings 
frightened  but  exalted  her.  With  head  erect,  leveled 
brows,  and  bright,  determined  eyes  she  walked  delib- 
erately into  the  square.  The  crowd  parted  and  gave  way 
before  this  beautiful  girl,  with  her  bared  head  and  its 
invincible  crest  of  chestnut  curls.  Presently  they  began 
to  follow  her,  with  a  compressed  murmur  of  admiration, 
until,  before  she  was  halfway  across  the  plaza,  the  sen- 
tries beside  the  gateway  of  the  Presidio  were  astonished 
at  the  vision  of  a  fair-haired  and  triumphant  Pallas,  who 
appeared  to  be  leading  the  entire  population  of  Todos 
Santos  to  victorious  attack.  In  vain  a  solitary  bugle 
blew,  in  vain  the  rolling  drum  beat  an  alarm,  the  sympa- 
thetic guard  only  presented  arms  as  Miss  Keene,  flushed 
and  excited,  her  eyes  darkly  humid  with  gratified  pride, 
swept  past  them  into  the  actual  presence  of  the  bewil- 
dered and  indignant  Comandante. 

The  only  feminine  consciousness  she  retained  was  that 
she  was  more  relieved  at  her  deliverance  from  the  wild 
cattle  and  unbroken  horses  of  her  progress  than  from  the 
Indians  and  soldiers. 

"  I  want  to  see  Mrs.  Markham,  and  to  know  by  what 
authority  she  is  arrested,"  said  Miss  Keene  boldly. 

"  The  Senor  Comandante  can  hold  no  conference  with 
you  until  you  disperse  your  party,"  interpreted  the 
secretary. 

She  was  about  to  hurriedly  reply  that  she  knew  noth- 
ing of  the  crowd  that  had  accompanied  her  ;  but  she  was 
withheld  by  a  newly-born  instinct  of  tact. 

"  How  do  I  know  that  I  shall  not  be  arrested,  like 
my  friend  ?  "  she  said  quickly.  "  She  is  as  innocent  as 
myself." 


The  Gentle  Castaways.  79 

"  The  Comandante  pledges  himself,  as  a  hidalgo,  that 
you  shall  not  be  harmed." 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  advance  to  the  nearest  in- 
truders at  the  gate  and  say,  "  Do  go  away,  please  ; "  but 
she  was  doubtful  of  its  efficiency,  and  was  already  too 
exalted  by  the  situation  to  be  satisfied  with  its  prosaic 
weakness.  But  her  newly  developed  diplomacy  again 
came  to  her  aid.  "  You  may  tell  them  so,  if  you  choose, 
I  cannot  answer  for  them,"  she  said,  with  apparent  dark 
significance. 

The  secretary  advanced  on  the  corridor  and  exchanged 
a  few  words  with  her  more  impulsive  followers.  Miss 
Keene,  goddess-like  and  beautiful,  remained  erect  be- 
hind him,  and  sent  them  a  dazzling  smile  and  ravish- 
ing wave  of  her  little  hand.  The  crowd  roared  with  an 
effusive  and  bovine  delight  that  half  frightened  her,  and 
with  a  dozen  "  Viva  la  Reyna  Americanas ! "  she  was 
hurried  by  the  Comandante  into  the  guard-room. 

"  You  ask  to  know  of  what  the  Senora  Markham  is 
accused,"  said  the  Commander,  more  gently.  "  She  has 
received  correspondence  from  the  pirate  —  Perkins  ! " 

"  The  pirate  —  Perkins  ?  "  said  Miss  Keene,  with  in- 
dignant incredulity. 

"The  buccaneer  who  wrote  that  letter.  Read  it  to 
her,  Manuel." 

The  secretary  took  his  eyes  from  the  young  girl's  glow- 
ing face,  coughed  slightly,  and  then  read  as  follows  :  — 

"  ON  BOARD  THE  EXCELSIOR,  of  the  Quinquinambo 
Independent  States  Navy,  August  8,  1854. 

"  To  Captain  Bunker.  —  Sir,"  .  .  . 

"  But  this  is  not  addressed  to  you!"  interrupted  Miss 
Keene  indignantly. 

"  The  Captain  Bunker  is  a  raving  madman,"  said  the 
Commander  gravely.  "  Read  on  !  " 


8o  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

The  color  gradually  faded  from  the  young  girl's  cheek 
as  the  secretary  continued,  in  a  monotonous  voice  :  — 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  inform  you  that  the  barque  Excel- 
sior was,  on  the  8th  of  July,  1854,  and  the  first  year  of 
the  Quinquinambo  Independence,  formally  condemned 
by  the  Federal  Council  of  Quinquinambo,  for  having 
aided  and  assisted  the  enemy  with  munitions  of  war 
and  supplies,  against  the  law  of  nations,  and  the  tacit 
and  implied  good-will  between  the  Republic  of  the 
United  States  and  the  struggling  Confederacies  of  South 
America;  and  that,  in  pursuance  thereof,  and  under  the 
law  of  reprisals  and  letters  of  marque,  was  taken  posses- 
sion of  by  me  yesterday.  The  goods  and  personal  effects 
belonging  to  the  passengers  and  yourself  have  been  safely 
landed  at  the  Embarcadero  of  Todos  Santos  —  a  neutral 
port  —  by  my  directions  ;  my  interpretation  of  the  orders 
of  the  Federal  Council  excepting  innocent  non-combatants 
and  their  official  protector  from  confiscation  or  amerce- 
ment. 

"  I  take  the  liberty  of  requesting  you  to  hand  the  in- 
closed order  on  the  Treasury  of  the  Quinquinambo  Con- 
federate States  to  Don  Miguel  Briones,  in  payment  of 
certain  stores  and  provisions,  and  of  a  piece  of  ordnance 
known  as  the  saluting  cannon  of  the  Presidio  of  Todos 
Santos.  Vigilancia ! 

"  Your  obedient  servant, 

"LEONIDAS  BOLIVAR  PERKINS, 
'•  Generalissimo  Commanding  Land  and  Sea  Forces, 
Quinquinambo  Independent  States." 

In  her  consternation  at  this  fuller  realization  of  the 
vague  catastrophe,  Miss  Keene  still  clung  to  the  idea 
that  had  brought  her  there. 

"  But  Mrs.  Markham  has  nothing  to  do  with  all  this  ?  " 
"  Then  why  does  she  refuse  to  give  up  her  secret  cor- 
respondence with  the  pirate  Perkins  ? "  returned  the  sec- 
retary. 


The  Gentle  Castaways.  81 

Miss  Keene  hesitated.  Had  Mrs.  Markham  any  pre- 
vious knowledge  of  the  Senor's  real  character  ? 

"  Why  don't  you  arrest  the  men  ? "  she  said  scornfully. 
"  There  is  Mr.  Banks,  Mr.  Crosby,  Mr.  Winslow,  and  Mr. 
Brace."  She  uttered  the  last  name  more  contemptuously, 
as  she  thought  of  that  young  gentleman's  protestations 
and  her  present  unprotected  isolation. 

"  They  are  already  arrested  and  removed  to  San  Anto- 
nio, a  league  hence,"  returned  the  secretary.  "  It  is  fact 
enough  that  they  have  confessed  that  their  Government 
has  seized  the  Mexican  province  of  California,  and  that 
they  were  on  their  way  to  take  possession  of  it." 

Miss  Keene's  heart  sank. 

"  But  you  knew  all  this  yesterday,"  she  faltered  ;  "  and 
our  war  with  Mexico  is  all  over  years  ago." 

"  We  did  not  know  it  last  night  at  the  banquet,  Sefiora ; 
nor  would  we  have  known  it  but  for  this  treason  and  di- 
vision in  your  own  party." 

A  sudden  light  flashed  upon  Miss  Keene's  mind.  She 
now  comprehended  the  advances  of  Dona  Isabel.  Extrav- 
agant and  monstrous  as  it  seemed,  these  people  evi- 
dently believed  that  a  revolution  had  taken  place  in  the 
United  States  ;  that  the  two  opposing  parties  had  been 
represented  by  the  passengers  of  the  Excelsior ;  and  that 
one  party  had  succeeded,  headed  by  the  indomitable  Per- 
kins. If  she  could  be  able  to  convince  them  of  their 
blunder,  would  it  be  wise  to  do  so  ?  She  thought  of  Mrs. 
Brimmer's  supplication  to  be  ranged  "  on  her  side,"  and 
realized  with  feminine  quickness  that  the  situation  might 
be  turned  to  her  countrymen's  advantage.  But  which  side 
had  Todos  Santos  favored  ?  It  was  left  to  her  woman's 
wit  to  discover  this,  and  conceive  a  plan  to  rescue  her 
helpless  companions. 

Her  suspense  was  quickly  relieved.  The  Commander 
and  his  secretary  exchanged  a  few  words. 


82  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"The  Comandante  will  grant  Dona  Leonora's  re- 
quest," said  the  secretary,  "if  she  will  answer  a  ques- 
tion." 

"  What  is  it  ? "  responded  Miss  Keene,  with  inward 
trepidation. 

"  The  Senora  Markham  is  perhaps  beloved  by  the  Pi- 
rate Perkins  ?  " 

In  spite  of  her  danger,  in  spite  of  the  uncertain  fate 
hanging  over  her  party,  Miss  Keene  could  with  difficulty 
repress  a  half  hysterical  inclination  to  laugh.  Even  then, 
it  escaped  in  a  sudden  twinkle  of  her  eye,  which  both  the 
Commander  and  his  subordinate  were  quick  to  notice,  as 
she  replied  demurely,  "  Perhaps." 

It  was  enough  for  the  Commander.  A  gleam  of  an- 
tique archness  and  venerable  raillery  lit  up  his  murky, 
tobacco-colored  pupils ;  a  spasm  of  gallantry  crossed  the 
face  of  the  secretary. 

"  Ah  —  what  would  you  ?  —  it  is  the  way  of  the  world," 
said  the  Commander.  "  We  comprehend.  Come  !  " 

He  led  the  way  across  the  corridor,  and  suddenly 
opened  a  small  barred  door.  Whatever  preconceived 
idea  Miss  Keene  may  have  had  of  her  unfortunate  coun- 
try-woman immured  in  a  noisome  cell,  and  guarded  by  a 
stern  jailer,  was  quite  dissipated  by  the  soft  misty  sun- 
shine that  flowed  in  through  the  open  door.  The  prison 
of  Mrs.  Markham  was  a  part  of  the  old  glacis  which  had 
been  allowed  to  lapse  into  a  wild  garden  that  stretched 
to  the  edge  of  the  sea.  There  was  a  summer-house  built 
on  —  and  partly  from  —  a  crumbling  bastion,  and  here, 
under  the  shade  of  tropical  creepers,  the  melancholy  cap- 
tive was  comfortably  writing,  with  her  portable  desk  on 
her  knee,  and  a  traveling-bag  at  her  feet.  A  Saratoga 
trunk  of  obtrusive  proportions  stood  in  the  centre  of  the 
peaceful  vegetation,  like  a  newly  raised  altar  to  an  un- 
known deity.  The  only  suggestion  of  martial  surveillance 


The  Gentle  Castaways.  83 

was  an  Indian  soldier,  whose  musket,  reposing  on  the 
ground  near  Mrs.  Markham,  he  had  exchanged  for  the 
rude  mattock  with  which  he  was  quietly  digging. 

The  two  women,  with  a  cry  of  relief,  flew  into  each 
other's  arms.  The  Commander  and  his  secretary  dis- 
creetly retired  to  an  angle  of  the  wall. 

"  I  find  everything  as  I  left  it,  my  dear,  even  to  my  slip- 
per-bag," said  Mrs.  Markham.  "  They  've  forgotten  noth- 
ing." 

"  But  you  are  a  captive  !  "  said  Eleanor.  "  What  does 
it  mean  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  my  dear.  I  gave  them  a  piece  of  my  mind," 
said  Mrs.  Markham,  looking,  however,  as  if  that  mental 
offering  had  by  no  means  exhausted  her  capital,  "  and  I 
have  written  six  pages  to  the  Governor  at  Mazatlan,  and 
a  full  account  to  Mr.  Markham." 

"  And  they  won't  get  them  in  thirty  years  !  "  said  Miss 
Keene  impetuously.  "  But  where  is  this  letter  from  Sefior 
Perkins.  And,  for  Heaven's  sake,  tell  me  if  you  had  the 
least  suspicion  before  of  anything  that  has  happened." 

"  Not  in  the  least.  The  man  is  mad,  my  dear,  and  I 
really  believe  driven  so  by  that  absurd  Illinois  woman's 
poetry.  Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  ridiculous  —  and 
shameful,  too — as  the  *  Ulricardo  '  business?  I  don't 
wonder  he  colored  so." 

Miss  Keene  winced  with  annoyance.  Was  everybody 
going  crazy,  or  was  there  anything  more  in  this  catas- 
trophe that  had  only  enfeebled  the  minds  of  her  country- 
women !  For  here  was  the  severe,  strong-minded  Mrs. 
Markham  actually  preoccupied,  like  Mrs.  Brimmer,  with 
utterly  irrelevant  particulars,  and  apparently  powerless  to 
grasp  the  fact  that  they  were  abandoned  on  a  half  hostile 
strand,  and  cut  off  by  half  a  century  from  the  rest  of  the 
world. 

"  As  to  the  letter,"  said  Mrs.  Markham,  quietly,  "  there 


84  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

it  is.     There  's  nothing  in  it  that  might  not  have  been 
written  by  a  friend." 

Miss  Keene  took  the  letter.  It  was  written  in  a  deli- 
cate, almost  feminine  hand.  She  could  not  help  noticing 
that  in  one  or  two  instances  corrections  had  been  made 
and  blots  carefully  removed  with  an  eraser. 

"  Midnight,  on  the  Excelsior. 

"  MY  FRIEND  :  When  you  receive  this  I  shall  prob- 
ably be  once  more  on  the  bosom  of  that  mysterious  and 
mighty  element  whose  majesty  has  impressed  us,  whose 
poetry  we  have  loved,  and  whose  moral  lessons,  I  trust, 
have  not  been  entirely  thrown  away  upon  us.  I  go  to 
the  deliverance  of  one  of  those  oppressed  nations  whose 
history  I  have  often  recited  to  you,  and  in  whose  destiny 
you  have  from  time  to  time  expressed  a  womanly  sympa- 
thy. While  it  is  probable,  therefore,  that  my  motives  may 
not  be  misunderstood  by  you,  or  even  other  dear  friends 
of  the  Excelsior,  it  is  by  no  means  impossible  that  the 
celerity  and  unexpectedness  of  my  action  may  not  be  per- 
fectly appreciated  by  the  careless  mind,  and  may  seem  to 
require  some  explanation.  Let  me  then  briefly  say  that 
the  idea  of  debarking  your  goods  and  chattels,  and  part- 
ing from  your  delightful  company  at  Todos  Santos,  only 
occurred  to  me  on  our  unexpected  —  shall  I  say  Provi- 
dential?—  arrival  at  that  spot ;  and  the  necessity  of  ex- 
pedition forbade  me  either  inviting  your  cooperation  or 
soliciting  your  confidence.  Human  intelligence  is  vari- 
ously constituted  —  or,  to  use  a  more  homely  phrase, 
'  many  men  have  many  minds  '  —  and  it  is  not  impossible 
that  a  premature  disclosure  of  my  plans  might  have  jeop- 
ardized that  harmony  which  you  know  it  has  been  my  de- 
sire to  promote.  It  was  my  original  intention  to  have 
landed  you  at  Mazatlan,  a  place  really  inferior  in  climate 
and  natural  attractions  to  Todo  Santos,  although,  per- 


The  Gentle  Castaways.  85 

haps,  more  easy  of  access  and  egress ;  but  the  presence 
of  an  American  steamer  in  the  offing  would  have  invested 
my  enterprise  with  a  certain  publicity  foreign,  I  think,  to 
all  our  tastes.  Taking  advantage,  therefore,  of  my 
knowledge  of  the  peninsular  coast,  and  the  pardonable 
ignorance  of  Captain  Bunker,  I  endeavored,  through  my 
faithful  subordinates,  to  reach  a  less  known  port,  and  a 
coast  rarely  frequented  by  reason  of  its  prevailing  fog. 
Here  occurred  one  of  those  dispensations  of  an  overrul- 
ing power  which,  dear  friend,  we  have  so  often  discussed. 
We  fell  in  with  an  unknown  current,  and  were  guided  by 
a  mysterious  hand  into  the  bay  of  Todos  Santos ! 

"  You  know  of  my  belief  in  the  infinite  wisdom  and 
benignity  of  events  ;  you  have,  dear  friend,  with  certain 
feminine  limitations,  shared  it  with  me.  Could  there  have 
been  a  more  perfect  illustration  of  it  than  the  power  that 
led  us  here  ?  On  a  shore,  historic  in  interest,  beautiful 
in  climate,  hospitable  in  its  people,  utterly  freed  from 
external  influences,  and  absolutely  without  a  compromis- 
ing future,  you  are  landed,  my  dear  friend,  with  your 
youthful  companions.  From  the  crumbling  ruins  of  a 
decaying  Past  you  are  called  to  construct  an  Arcadia  of 
your  own  ;  the  rudiments  of  a  new  civilization  are  within 
your  grasp ;  the  cost  of  existence  is  comparatively  tri- 
fling ;  the  various  sums  you  have  with  you,  which  even  in 
the  chaos  of  revolution  I  have  succeeded  in  keeping 
intact,  will  more  than  suffice  to  your  natural  wants  for 
years  to  come.  Were  I  not  already  devoted  to  the  task 
of  freeing  Quinqumambo,  I  should  willingly  share  this 
Elysium  with  you  all.  But,  to  use  the  glowing  words  of 
Mrs.  M'Corkle,  slightly  altering  the  refrain  — 

'  Ah,  stay  me  not !     With  flying  feet 
O'er  desert  sands,  I  rush  to  greet 
My  fate,  my  love,  my  life,  my  sweet 
Quinquinambo ! ' 


86  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  I  venture  to  intrust  to  your  care  two  unpublished 
manuscripts  of  that  gifted  woman.  The  dangers  that 
may  environ  my  present  mission,  the  vicissitudes  of  bat- 
tle by  sea  or  land,  forbid  my  imperiling  their  natural 
descent  to  posterity.  You,  my  dear  friend,  will  preserve 
them  for  the  ages  to  come,  occasionally  refreshing  your- 
self, from  time  to  time,  from  that  Parnassian  spring. 

"  Adieu  !  my  friend.  I  look  around  the  familiar  cabin, 
and  miss  your  gentle  faces.  I  feel  as  Jason  might  have 
felt,  alone  on  the  deck  of  the  Argo  when  his  companions 
were  ashore,  except  that  I  know  of  no  Circean  influences 
to  mar  their  destiny.  In  examining  the  state-rooms  to  see 
if  my  orders  for  the  complete  restoration  of  passengers' 
property  had  been  carried  out,  I  allowed  myself  to  look 
into  yours.  Lying  alone,  forgotten  and  overlooked,  I  saw 
a  peculiar  jet  hair-pin  which  I  think  I  have  observed  in 
the  coils  of  your  tresses.  May  I  venture  to  keep  this 
gentle  instrument  as  a  reminder  of  the  superior  intellect 
it  has  so  often  crowned  ?  Adieu,  my  friend. 

"  Ever  yours,  LEONIDAS  BOLIVAR  PERKINS." 

"  Well  ? "  said  Mrs.  Markham  impatiently,  as  Miss 
Keene  remained  motionless  with  the  letter  in  her  hand. 

"  It  seems  like  a  ridiculous  nightmare  !  I  can't  under- 
stand it  at  all.  The  man  that  wrote  this  letter  may  be 
mad  —  but  he  is  neither  a  pirate  nor  a  thief  —  and  yet " — 

"  He  a  pirate  ?  "  echoed  Mrs.  Markham  indignantly ; 
"  he 's  nothing  of  the  kind  !  It  's  not  even  \usfault  /" 

"  Not  his  fault  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Keene ;  "  are  you 
mad,  too  ?  " 

"  No  —  nor  a  fool,  my  dear !  Don't  you  see  ?  It 's  all 
the  fault  of  Banks  and  Brimmer  for  compromising  the 
vessel :  of  that  stupid,  drunken  captain  for  permitting 
it.  Senor  Perkins  is  a  liberator,  a  patriot,  who  has  per- 
iled himself  and  his  country  to  treat  us  magnanimously. 


The  Gentle  Castaways.  87 

Don't  you  see  it  ?  It 's  like  that  Banks  and  that  Mrs. 
Brimmer  to  call  him  a  pirate  !  I  Ve  a  good  mind  to  give 
the  Commander  my  opinion  of  them" 

"  Hush  !  "  said  Miss  Keene,  with  a  sudden  recollection 
of  the  Commander's  suspicions,  "  for  Heaven's  sake  ;  you 
do  not  know  what  you  are  saying.  Look!  they  were 
talking  with  that  strange  man,  and  now  they  are  coming 
this  way." 

The  Commander  and  his  secretary  approached  them. 
They  were  both  more  than  usually  grave ;  but  the  look 
of  inquiry  and  suspicion  with  which  they  regarded  the 
two  women  was  gone  from  their  eyes. 

"The  Sefior  Comandante  says  you  are  free,  Senoras, 
and  begs  you  will  only  decide  whether  you  will  remain 
his  guests  or  the  guests  of  the  Alcalde.  But  for  the 
present  he  cannot  allow  you  any  communication  with  the 
prisoners  of  San  Antonio." 

"  There  is  further  news  ? "  said  Miss  Keene  faintly, 
with  a  presentiment  of  worse  complications. 

"  There  is !  A  body  from  the  Excelsior  has  been 
washed  on  shore." 

The  two  women  turned  pale. 

"In  the  pocket  of  the  murdered  man  is  an  accusation 
against  one  Senor  Hurlstone,  who  was  concealed  on  the 
ship;  who  came  not  ashore  openly  with  the  other  pas- 
sengers, but  who  escaped  in  secret,  and  is  now  hiding 
somewhere  in  Todos  Santos." 

"  And  you  suspect  him  of  this  infamous  act  ? "  said 
Eleanor,  forgetting  all  prudence  in  her  indignation.  "You 
are  deceiving  yourself.  He  is  as  innocent  as  I  am  !  " 

The  Commander  and  the  secretary  smiled  sapiently, 
but  gently. 

"  The  Sefior  Comandante  believes  you,  Dona  Leonora : 
the  Senor  Hurlstone  is  innocent  of  the  piracy.  He  is,  of 
a  surety,  the  leader  of  the  Opposition." 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

IN  SANCTUARY. 

WHEN  James  Hurlstone  reached  the  shelter  of  the 
shrubbery  he  leaned  exhaustedly  against  the  adobe  wall, 
and  looked  back  upon  the  garden  he  had  just  traversed. 
At  its  lower  extremity  a  tall  hedge  of  cactus  reinforced  the 
crumbling  wall  with  a  cheval  de  frise  of  bristling  thorns  ; 
it  was  through  a  gap  in  this  green  barrier  that  he  had 
found  his  way  a  few  hours  before,  as  his  torn  clothes  still 
testified.  At  one  side  ran  the  low  wall  of  the  Alcalde's 
fasa,  a  mere  line  of  dark  shadow  in  that  strange  diapha- 
nous mist  that  seemed  to  suffuse  all  objects.  The  gnarled 
and  twisted  branches  of  pear-trees,  gouty  with  old  age, 
bent  so  low  as  to  impede  any  progress  under  their  formal 
avenues  ;  out  of  a  tangled  labyrinth  of  figtrees,  here  and 
there  a  single  plume  of  feathery  palm  swam  in  a  drowsy 
upper  radiance.  The  shrubbery  around  him,  of  some  un- 
known variety,  exhaled  a  faint  perfume ;  he  put  out  his 
hand  to  grasp  what  appeared  to  be  a  young  catalpa,  and 
found  it  the  trunk  of  an  enormous  passion  vine,  that, 
creeping  softly  upward,  had  at  last  invaded  the  very  bel- 
fry of  the  dim  tower  above  him  ;  and  touching  it,  his  soul 
seemed  to  be  lifted  with  it  out  of  the  shadow. 

The  great  hush  and  quiet  that  had  fallen  like  a  bene- 
diction on  every  sleeping  thing  around  him ;  the  deep  and 
passionless  repose  that  seemed  to  drop  from  the  bending 
boughs  of  the  venerable  trees  ;  the  cool,  restful,  earthy 
breath  of  the  shadowed  mold  beneath  him,  touched  only 
by  a  faint  jessamine-like  perfume  as  of  a  dead  passion, 


In  Sanctuary.  89 

lulled  the  hurried  beatings  of  his  heart  and  calmed  the 
feverish  tremor  of  his  limbs.  He  allowed  himself  to  sink 
back  against  the  wall,  his  hands  tightly  clasped  before 
him.  Gradually,  the  set,  abstracted  look  of  his  eyes 
faded  and  became  suffused,  as  if  moistened  by  that  celes- 
tial mist.  Then  he  rose  quickly,  drew  his  sleeve  hur- 
riedly across  his  lashes,  and  began  slowly  to  creep  along 
the  wall  again. 

Either  the  obscurity  of  the  shrubbery  became  greater 
or  he  was  growing  preoccupied  ;  but  in  steadying  himself 
by  the  wall  he  had,  without  perceiving  it,  put  his  hand 
upon  a  rude  door  that,  yielding  to  his  pressure,  opened 
noiselessly  into  a  dark  passage.  Without  apparent  reflec- 
tion he  entered,  followed  the  passage  a  few  steps  until  it 
turned  abruptly ;  turning  with  it,  he  found  himself  in  the 
body  of  the  Mission  Church  of  Todos  Santos.  A  swing- 
ing-lamp, that  burned  perpetually  before  an  effigy  of  the 
Virgin  Mother,  threw  a  faint  light  on  the  single  rose- 
window  behind  the  high  altar ;  another,  suspended  in  a 
low  archway,  apparently  lit  the  open  door  of  the  passage 
towards  the  refectory.  By  the  stronger  light  of  the  latter 
Hurlstone  could  see  the  barbaric  red  and  tarnished  gold 
of  the  rafters  that  formed  the  straight  roof.  The  walls 
were  striped  with  equally  bizarre  coloring,  half  Moorish 
and  half  Indian.  A  few  hangings  of  dyed  and  painted 
cloths  with  heavy  fringes  were  disposed  on  either  side  of 
the  chancel,  like  the  flaps  of  a  wigwam  ;  and  the  abo- 
riginal suggestion  was  further  repeated  in  a  quantity  of 
colored  beads  and  sea-shells  that  decked  the  communion- 
rails.  The  Stations  of  the  Cross,  along  the  walls,  were 
commemorated  by  paintings,  evidently  by  a  native  artist 
—  to  suit  the  same  barbaric  taste  ;  while  a  larger  picture 
of  San  Francisco  d'Assisis,  under  the  choir,  seemed  to  be- 
long to  an  older  and  more  artistic  civilization.  But  the 
sombre  half-light  of  the  two  lamps  mellowed  and  softened 


90  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

the  harsh  contrast  of  these  details  until  the  whole  body 
of  the  church  appeared  filled  with  a  vague  harmonious 
shadow.  The  air,  heavy  with  the  odors  of  past  in- 
cense, seemed  to  be  a  part  of  that  expression,  as  if  the 
solemn  and  sympathetic  twilight  became  palpable  in  each 
deep,  long-drawn  inspiration. 

Again  overcome  by  the  feeling  of  repose  and  peaceful- 
ness,  Hurlstone  sank  upon  a  rude  settle,  and  bent  his 
head  and  folded  arms  over  a  low  railing  before  him. 
How  long  he  sat  there,  allowing  the  subtle  influence  to 
transfuse  and  possess  his  entire  being,  he  did  not  know. 
The  faint  twitter  of  birds  suddenly  awoke  him.  Looking 
up,  he  perceived  that  it  came  from  the  vacant  square  of 
the  tower  above  him,  open  to  the  night  and  suffused  with 
its  mysterious  radiance.  In  another  moment  the  roof  of 
the  church  was  swiftly  crossed  and  recrossed  with  tiny 
and  adventurous  wings.  The  mysterious  light  had  taken 
an  opaline  color.  Morning  was  breaking. 

The  slow  rustling  of  a  garment,  accompanied  by  a  soft 
but  heavy  tread,  sounded  from  the  passage.  He  started 
to  his  feet  as  the  priest,  whom  fae  had  seen  on  the  deck 
of  the  Excelsior,  entered  the  church  from  the  refectory. 
The  Padre  was  alone.  At  the  apparition  of  a  stranger, 
torn  and  disheveled,  he  stopped  involuntarily  and  cast  a 
hasty  look  towards  the  heavy  silver  ornaments  on  the 
altar.  Hurlstone  noticed  it,  and  smiled  bitterly. 

"  Don't  alarm  yourself.  I  only  sought  this  place  for 
shelter." 

He  spoke  in  French  —  the  language  he  had  heard 
Padre  Esteban  address  to  Mrs.  Brimmer.  But  the 
priest's  quick  eye  had  already  detected  his  own  mistake. 
He  lifted  his  hand  with  a  sublime  gesture  towards  the 
altar,  and  said, — 

"  You  are  right  1  Where  should  you  seek  shelter  but 
here  ? " 


In  Sanctuary.  91 

The  reply  was  so  unexpected  that  Hurlstone  was  silent. 
His  lips  quivered  slightly. 

"  And  if  it  were  sanctuary  I  was  seeking  ?  "  he  said. 

"  You  would  first  tell  me  why  you  sought  it,"  said  Padre 
Esteban  gently. 

Hurlstone  looked  at  him  irresolutely  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said,  with  the  hopeless  desperation  of  a  man 
anxious  to  anticipate  his  fate,  — 

"  I  am  a  passenger  on  the  ship  you  boarded  yesterday. 
I  came  ashore  with  the  intention  of  concealing  myself 
somewhere  here  until  she  had  sailed.  When  I  tell  you 
that  I  am  not  a  fugitive  from  justice,  that  I  have  commit- 
ted no  offense  against  the  ship  or  her  passengers,  nor 
have  I  any  intention  of  doing  so,  but  that  I  only  wish 
concealment  from  their  knowledge  for  twenty-four  hours, 
you  will  know  enough  to  understand  that  you  run  no  risk 
in  giving  me  assistance.  I  can  tell  you  no  more." 

"  I  did  not  see  you  with  the  other  passengers,  either 
on  the  ship  or  ashore,"  said  the  priest.  "  How  did  you 
come  here  ? " 

"  I  swam  ashore  before  they  left.  I  did  not  know  they 
had  any  idea  of  landing  here  ;  I  expected  to  be  the  only 
one,  and  there  would  have  been  no  need  for  conceal- 
ment then.  But  I  am  not  lucky,"  he  added,  with  a  bitter 
laugh. 

The  priest  glanced  at  his  garments,  which  bore  the 
traces  of  the  sea,  but  remained  silent. 

"  Do  you  think  I  am  lying  ?  " 

The  old  priest  lifted  his  head  with  a  gesture. 

"  Not  to  me  —  but  to  God  !  " 

The  young  man  followed  the  gesture,  and  glanced 
around  the  barbaric  church  with  a  slight  look  of  scorn. 
But  the  profound  isolation,  the  mystic  seclusion,  and, 
above  all,  the  complete  obliteration  of  that  world  and 
civilization  he  shrank  from  and  despised,  again  subdued 


92  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

and  overcame  his  rebellious  spirit.  He  lifted  his  eyes  to 
the  priest. 

"  Nor  to  God,"  he  said  gravely. 

"  Then  why  withhold  anything  from  Him  here  ?  "  said 
the  priest  gently. 

"  I  am  not  a  Catholic  —  I  do  not  believe  in  confes- 
sion," said  Hurlstone  doggedly,  turning  aside. 

But  Padre  Esteban  laid  his  large  brown  hand  on  the 
young  man's  shoulder.  Touched  by  some  occult  sugges- 
tion in  its  soft  contact,  he  sank  again  into  his  seat. 

"  Yet  you  ask  for  the  sanctuary  of  His  house  —  a 
sanctuary  bought  by  that  contrition  whose  first  expres- 
sion is  the  bared  and  open  soul !  To  the  first  worldly 
shelter  you  sought  —  the  peon's  hut  or  the  Alcalde's  casa 
—  you  would  have  thought  it  necessary  to  bring  a  story. 
You  would  not  conceal  from  the  physician  whom  you 
asked  for  balsam  either  the  wound,  the  symptoms,  or 
the  cause  ?  Enough,"  he  said  kindly,  as  Hurlstone  was 
about  to  reply.  "You  shall  have  your  request.  You 
shall  stay  here.  I  will  be  your  physician,  and  will  salve 
your  wounds ;  if  any  poison  I  know  not  of  rankle  there, 
you  will  not  blame  me,  son,  but  perhaps  you  will  assist 
me  to  find  it.  I  will  give  you  a  secluded  cell  in  the  dor? 
mitory  until  the  ship  has  sailed.  And  then  "  — 

He  dropped  quietly  on  the  settle,  took  the  young  man's 
hand  paternally  in  his  own,  and  gazed  into  his  eyes  as  if 
he  read  his  soul. 

And  then  .  .  .  Ah,  yes  .  .  .  What  then  ?  Hurlstone 
glanced  once  more  around  him.  He  thought  of  the  quiet 
night ;  of  the  great  peace  that  had  fallen  upon  him  since 
he  had  entered  the  garden,  and  the  promise  of  a  greater 
peace  that  seemed  to  breathe  with  the  incense  from  those 
venerable  walls.  He  thought  of  that  crumbling  barrier, 
that  even  in  its  ruin  seemed  to  shut  out,  more  completely 
than  anything  he  had  conceived,  his  bitter  past,  and  the 


In  Sanctuary.  93 

bitter  world  that  recalled  it.  He  thought  of  the  long 
days  to  come,  when,  forgetting  and  forgotten,  he  might 
find  a  new  life  among  these  simple  aliens,  themselves  for- 
gotten by  the  world.  He  had  thought  of  this  once  be- 
fore in  the  garden  ;  it  occurred  to  him  again  in  this 
Lethe-like  oblivion  of  the  little  church,  in  the  kindly 
pressure  of  the  priest's  hand.  The  ornaments  no  longer 
looked  uncouth  and  barbaric  —  rather  they  seemed  full 
of  some  new  spiritual  significance.  He  suddenly  lifted 
his  eyes  to  Padre  Esteban,  and,  half  rising  to  his  feet, 
said,  — 

"  Are  we  alone  ? " 

"  We  are ;  it  is  a  half-hour  yet  before  mass,"  said  the 
priest. 

"  My  story  will  not  last  so  long,"  said  the  young  man 
hurriedly,  as  if  fearing  to  change  his  mind.  "  Hear  me, 
then  —  it  is  no  crime  nor  offense  to  any  one ;  more  than 
that,  it  concerns  no  one  but  myself  —  it  is  of  "  — 

"  A  woman,"  said  the  priest  softly.  "  So  !  we  will  sit 
down,  my  son." 

He  lifted  his  hand  with  a  soothing  gesture  —  the  move- 
ment of  a  physician  who  has  just  arrived  at  an  easy  diag- 
nosis of  certain  uneasy  symptoms.  There  was  also  a  slight 
suggestion  of  an  habitual  toleration,  as  if  even  the  seclu- 
sion of  Todos  Santos  had  not  been  entirely  free  from  the 
invasion  of  the  primal  passion. 

Hurlstone  waited  for  an  instant,  but  then  went  on 
rapidly. 

"  It  is  of  a  woman,  who  has  cursed  my  life,  blasted  my 
prospects,  and  ruined  my  youth ;  a  woman  who  gained 
my  early  affection  only  to  blight  and  wither  it ;  a  woman 
who  should  be  nearer  to  me  and  dearer  than  all  else,  and 
yet  who  is  further  than  the  uttermost  depths  of  hell  from 
me  in  sympathy  or  feeling ;  a  woman  that  I  should  cleave 
to,  but  from  whom  I  have  been  flying,  ready  to  face  shame, 


94          The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

disgrace,  oblivion,  even  that  death  which  alone  can  part 
us  :  for  that  woman  is  —  my  wife." 

He  stopped,  out  of  breath,  with  fixed  eyes  and  a  rigid 
mouth.  Father  Esteban  drew  a  snuff-box  from  his 
pocket,  and  a  large  handkerchief.  After  blowing  his  nose 
violently,  he  took  a  pinch  of  snuff,  wiped  his  lip,  and  re- 
placed the  box. 

"  A  bad  habit,  my  son,"  he  said  apologetically,  "  but  an 
old  man's  weakness.  Go  on." 

"I  met  her  first  five  years  ago — the  wife  of  another 
man.  Don't  misjudge  me,  it  was  no  lawless  passion  ;  it 
was  a  friendship,  I  believed,  due  to  her  intellectual  qual- 
ities as  much  as  to  her  womanly  fascinations ;  for  I  was 
a  young  student,  lodging  in  the  same  house  with  her,  in 
an  academic  town.  Before  I  ever  spoke  to  her  of  love, 
she  had  confided  to  me  her  own  unhappiness  —  the  un- 
congeniality  of  her  married  life,  the  harshness,  and  even 
brutality,  of  her  husband.  Even  a  man  less  in  love  than 
I  was  could  have  seen  the  truth  of  this  —  the  contrast  of 
the  coarse,  sensual,  and  vulgar  man  with  an  apparently 
refined  and  intelligent  woman  ;  but  any  one  else  except 
myself  would  have  suspected  that  such  a  union  was  not 
merely  a  sacrifice  of  the  woman.  I  believed  her.  It  was 
not  until  long  afterwards  that  I  learned  that  her  marriage 
had  been  a  condonation  of  her  youthful  errors  by  a  com- 
plaisant bridegroom ;  that  her  character  had  been  saved 
by  a  union  that  was  a  mutual  concession.  But  I  loved 
her  madly ;  and  when  she  finally  got  a  divorce  from  her 
uncongenial  husband,  I  believed  it  less  an  expression  of 
her  love  for  me  than  an  act  of  justice.  I  did  not  know 
at  the  time  that  they  had  arranged  the  divorce  together, 
as  they  had  arranged  their  marriage,  by  equal  conces- 
sions. 

"  I  was  the  only  son  of  a  widowed  mother,  whose  in- 
stincts were  from  the  first  opposed  to  my  friendship  with 


In  Sanctuary.  95 


this  woman,  and  what  she  prophetically  felt  would  be  its 
result.  Unfortunately,  both  she  and  my  friends  were 
foolish  enough  to  avow  their  belief  that  the  divorce  was 
obtained  solely  with  a  view  of  securing  me  as  a  succes- 
sor ;  and  it  was  this  argument  more  than  any  other  that 
convinced  me  of  my  duty  to  protect  her.  Enough,  I  mar- 
ried, not  only  in  spite  of  all  opposition  —  but  because  of  it. 
"  My  mother  would  have  reconciled  herself  to  the 
marriage,  but  my  wife  never  forgave  the  opposition,  and, 
by  some  hellish  instinct  divining  that  her  power  over 
me  might  be  weakened  by  maternal  influence,  precipi- 
tated a  quarrel  which  forever  separated  us.  With  the 
little  capital  left  by  my  father,  divided  between  my 
mother  and  myself,  I  took  my  wife  to  a  western  city. 
Our  small  income  speedily  dwindled  under  the  debts  of 
her  former  husband,  which  she  had  assumed  to  purchase 
her  freedom.  I  endeavored  to  utilize  a  good  education 
and  some  accomplishments  in  music  and  the  languages 
by  giving  lessons  and  by  contributing  to  the  press.  In 
this  my  wife  first  made  a  show  of  assisting  me,  but  I  was 
not  long  in  discovering  that  her  intelligence  was  super- 
ficial and  shallow,  and  that  the  audacity  of  expression, 
which  I  had  believed  to  be  originality  of  conviction,  was 
simply  shamelessness,  and  a  desire  for  notoriety.  She 
had  a  facility  in  writing  sentimental  poetry,  which  had 
been  efficacious  in  her  matrimonial  confidences,  but  which 
editors  of  magazines  and  newspapers  found  to  be  shallow 
and  insincere.  To  my  astonishment,  she  remained  un- 
affected by  this,  as  she  was  equally  impervious  to  the 
slights  and  sneers  that  continually  met  us  in  society. 
At  last  the  inability  to  pay  one  of  her  former  husband's 
claims  brought  to  me  a  threat  and  an  anonymous  letter. 
I  laid  them  before  her,  when  a  scene  ensued  which  re- 
vealed the  blindness  of  my  folly  in  all  its  hideous  hope- 
lessness :  she  accused  me  of  complicity  in  her  divorce, 


g6  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

and  deception  in  regard  to  my  own  fortune.  In  a 
speech,  whose  language  was  a  horrible  revelation  of  her 
early  habits,  she  offered  to  arrange  a  divorce  from  me 
as  she  had  from  her  former  husband.  She  gave  as  a 
reason  her  preference  for  another,  and  her  belief  that 
the  scandal  of  a  suit  would  lend  her  a  certain  advertise- 
ment and  prestige.  It  was  a  combination  of  Messalina 
and  Mrs.  Jarly  "  - 

"  Pardon  !  I  remember  not  a  Madame  Jarly,"  said 
the  priest. 

"  Of  viciousness  and  commercial  calculation,"  con- 
tinued Hurlstone  hurriedly.  "  I  don't  remember  what 
happened  ;  she  swore  that  I  struck  her!  Perhaps  —  God 
knows  !  But  she  failed,  even  before  a  western  jury,  to 
convict  me  of  cruelty.  The  judge  that  thought  me  half 
insane  would  not  believe  me  brutal,  and  her  application 
for  divorce  was  lost. 

"  I  need  not  tell  you  that  the  same  friends  who  had 
opposed  my  marriage  now  came  forward  to  implore  me 
to  allow  her  to  break  our  chains.  I  refused.  I  swear 
to  you  it  was  from  no  lingering  love  for  her,  for  her 
presence  drove  me  mad  ;  it  was  from  no  instinct  of  re- 
venge or  jealousy,  for  I  should  have  welcomed  the  man 
who  would  have  taken  her  out  of  my  life  and  memory. 
But  I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  taking  her  first  hus- 
band's place  in  her  hideous  comedy ;  I  could  not  pur- 
chase my  freedom  at  that  price  —  at  any  price.  I  was 
told  that  I  could  get  a  divorce  against  her,  and  stand 
forth  before  the  world  untrammeled  and  unstained.  But 
I  could  not  stand  before  myself  in  such  an  attitude.  / 
knew  that  the  shackles  I  had  deliberately  forged  could 
not  be  loosened  except  by  death.  I  knew  that  the  stains 
of  her  would  cling  to  me  and  become  a  part  of  my  own 
sin,  even  as  the  sea  I  plunged  into  yesterday  to  escape 
her,  though  it  has  dried  upon  me,  has  left  its  bitter  salt 
behind. 


In  Sanctuary.  97 

"  When  she  knew  my  resolve,  she  took  her  revenge  by 
dragging  my  name  through  the  successive  levels  to  which 
she  descended.  Under  the  plea  that  the  hardly-earned 
sum  I  gave  to  her  maintenance  apart  from  me  was  not 
sufficient,  she  utilized  her  undoubted  beauty  and  more 
doubtful  talent  in  amateur  entertainments  —  and,  finally, 
on  the  stage.  She  was  openly  accompanied  by  her  lover, 
who  acted  as  her  agent,  in  the  hope  of  goading  me  to  a 
divorce.  Suddenly  she  disappeared.  I  thought  she  had 
forgotten  me.  I  obtained  an  honorable  position  in  New 
York.  One  night  I  entered  a  theater  devoted  to  bur- 
lesque opera  and  the  exhibition  of  a  popular  actress, 
known  as  the  Western  Thalia,  whose  beautiful  and  auda- 
ciously draped  figure  was  the  talk  of  the  town.  I  recog- 
nized my  wife  in  this  star  of  nudity ;  more  than  that,  she 
recognized  me.  The  next  day,  in  addition  to  the  usual 
notice,  the  real  name  of  the  actress  was  given  in  the 
morning  papers,  with  a  sympathizing  account  of  her 
romantic  and  unfortunate  marriage.  I  renounced  my 
position,  and,  taking  advantage  of  an  offer  from  an  old 
friend  in  California,  resolved  to  join  him  secretly  there. 
My  mother  had  died  broken-hearted  ;  I  was  alone  in  the 
world.  But  my  wife  discovered  my  intention  ;  and  when 
I  reached  Callao,  I  heard  that  she  had  followed  me,  by 
way  of  the  Isthmus  of  Panama,  and  that  probably  she 
would  anticipate  me  in  Mazatlan,  where  we  were  to  stop. 
The  thought  of  suicide  haunted  me  during  the  rest  of 
that  horrible  voyage ;  only  my  belief  that  she  would 
make  it  appear  as  a  tacit  confession  of  my  guilt  saved 
me  from  that  last  act  of  weakness." 

He  stopped  and  shuddered.  Padre  Esteban  again  laid 
his  hand  softly  upon  him. 

"  It  was  God  who  spared  you  that  sacrifice  of  soul  and 
body,"  he  said  gently. 

"  I  thought  it  was  God  that  suggested  to  me  to  take 


98  The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

the  simulation  of  that  act  the  means  of  separating  myself 
from  her  forever.  When  we  neared  Mazatlan,  I  conceived 
the  idea  of  hiding  myself  in  the  hold  of  the  Excelsior 
until  she  had  left  that  port,  in  the  hope  that  it  would  be 
believed  that  I  had  fallen  overboard.  I  succeeded  in 
secreting  myself,  but  was  discovered  at  the  same  time 
that  the  unexpected  change  in  the  ship's  destination  ren- 
dered concealment  unnecessary.  As  we  did  not  put  in 
at  Mazatlan,  nobody  suspected  my  discovery  in  the  hold 
to  be  anything  but  the  accident  that  I  gave  it  out  to  be. 
I  felt  myself  saved  the  confrontation  of  the  woman  at 
Mazatlan  ;  but  I  knew  she  would  pursue  me  to  San 
Francisco. 

"  The  strange  dispensation  of  Providence  that  brought 
us  into  this  unknown  port  gave  me  another  hope  of 
escape  and  oblivion.  While  you  and  the  Commander 
were  boarding  the  Excelsior,  I  slipped  from  the  cabin- 
window  into  the  water ;  I  was  a  good  swimmer,  and 
reached  the  shore  in  safety.  I  concealed  myself  in  the 
ditch  of  the  Presidio  until  I  saw  the  passengers'  boats 
returning  with  them,  when  I  sought  the  safer  shelter  of 
this  Mission.  I  made  my  way  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge 
and  lay  under  your  olive-trees,  hearing  the  voices  of  my 
companions,  beyond  the  walls,  till  past  midnight.  I  then 
groped  my  way  along  the  avenue  of  pear-trees  till  I  came 
to  another  wall,  and  a  door  that  opened  to  my  accidental 
touch.  I  entered,  and  found  myself  here.  You  know  the 
rest." 

He  had  spoken  with  the  rapid  and  unpent  fluency  of  a 
man  who  cared  more  to  relieve  himself  of  an  oppressive 
burden  than  to  impress  his  auditor;  yet  the  restriction 
of  a  foreign  tongue  had  checked  repetition  or  verbosity. 
Without  imagination  he  had  been  eloquent ;  without  hope- 
fulness he  had  been  convincing.  Father  Esteban  rose, 
holding  both  his  hands. 


In  Sanctuary.  99 

"  My  son,  in  the  sanctuary  which  you  have  claimed 
there  is  no  divorce.  The  woman  who  has  ruined  your 
life  could  not  be  your  wife.  As  long  as  her  first  husband 
lives,  she  is  forever  his  wife,  bound  by  a  tie  which  no 
human  law  can  sever !  " 


CHAPTER   IX. 

AN   OPEN-AIR   PRISON. 

AN  hour  after  mass  Father  Esteban  had  quietly  in- 
stalled Hurlstone  in  a  small  cell-like  apartment  off  the 
refectory.  The  household  of  the  priest  consisted  of  an 
old  Indian  woman  of  fabulous  age  and  miraculous  pro- 
priety, two  Indian  boys  who  served  at  mass,  a  gardener, 
and  a  muleteer.  The  first  three,  who  were  immediately 
in  attendance  upon  the  priest,  were  cognizant  of  a  stran- 
ger's presence,  but,  under  instructions  from  the  reverend 
Padre,  were  loyally  and  superstitiously  silent ;  the  voca- 
tions of  the  gardener  and  muleteer  made  any  intrusion 
from  them  impossible.  A  breakfast  of  fruit,  tortillas, 
chocolate,  and  red  wine,  of  which  Hurlstone  partook 
sparingly  and  only  to  please  his  entertainer,  nevertheless 
seemed  to  restore  his  strength,  as  it  did  the  Padre's 
equanimity.  For  the  old  man  had  been  somewhat  agi- 
tated during  mass,  and,  except  that  his  early  morning 
congregation  was  mainly  composed  of  Indians,  muleteers, 
and  small  venders,  his  abstraction  would  have  been  no- 
ticed. With  ready  tact  he  had  not  attempted,  by  further 
questioning,  to  break  the  taciturnity  into  which  Hurlstone 
had  relapsed  after  his  emotional  confession  and  the 
priest's  abrupt  half-absolution.  Was  it  possible  he  re- 
gretted his  confidence,  or  was  it  possible  that  his  first 
free  and  untrammeled  expression  of  his  wrongs  had  left 
him  with  a  haunting  doubt  of  their  real  magnitude  ? 

"  Lie  down  here,  my  son,"  said  the  old  ecclesiastic, 
pointing  to  a  small  pallet  in  the  corner,  "  and  try  to  re- 


An  Open- Air  Prison.  101 

store  in  the  morning  what  you  have  taken  from  the  night. 
Manuela  will  bring  your  clothes  when  they  are  dried  and 
mended ;  meantime,  shift  for  yourself  in  Pepito's  serape 
and  calzas.  I  will  betake  me  to  the  Comandante  and  the 
Alcalde,  to  learn  the  dispositions  of  your  party,  when  the 
ship  will  sail,  and  if  your  absence  is  suspected.  Peace 
be  with  you,  son  !  Manuela,  attend  to  the  caballero,  and 
see  you  chatter  not." 

Without  doubting  the  substantial  truth  of  his  guest's 
story,  the  good  Padre  Esteban  was  not  unwilling  to  have 
it  corroborated  by  such  details  as  he  thought  he  could 
collect  among  the  Excelsior's  passengers.  His  own  ex- 
perience in  the  confessional  had  taught  him  the  unreliabil- 
ity of  human  evidence,  and  the  vagaries  of  both  conscien- 
tious and  unconscious  suppression.  That  a  young,  good- 
looking,  and  accomplished  caballero  should  have  been 
the  victim  of  not  one,  but  even  many,  erotic  episodes,  did 
not  strike  the  holy  father  as  being  peculiar ;  but  that  he 
should  have  been  brought  by  a  solitary  unfortunate  at- 
tachment to  despair  and  renunciation  of  the  world  ap- 
peared to  him  marvelous.  He  was  not  unfamiliar  with 
the  remorse  of  certain  gallants  for  peccadillos  with  other 
men's  wives ;  but  this  Americano's  self-abasement  for  the 
sins  of  his  own  wife  —  as  he  foolishly  claimed  her  to  be 
—  whom  he  hated  and  despised,  struck  Father  Esteban 
as  a  miracle  open  to  suspicion.  Was  there  anything  else 
in  these  somewhat  commonplace  details  of  vulgar  and 
low  intrigue  than  what  he  had  told  the  priest  ?  Were  all 
these  Americano  husbands  as  sensitive  and  as  gloomily 
self-sacrificing  and  expiating  ?  It  did  not  appear  so  from 
the  manners  and  customs  of  the  others,  — from  those  easy 
matrons  whose  complacent  husbands  had  abandoned 
them  to  the  long  companionship  of  youthful  cavaliers  on 
adventurous  voyages  ;  from  those  audacious  virgins,  who 
had  the  freedom  of  married  women.  Surely,  this  was  not 


IO2         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

a  pious  and  sensitive  race,  passionately  devoted  to  their 
domestic  affections  !  The  young  stranger  must  be  either 
deceiving  him  —  or  an  exception  to  his  countrymen  ! 

And  if  he  was  that  exception  —  what  then  ?  An  idea 
which  had  sprung  up  in  Father  Esteban's  fancy  that  morn- 
ing now  took  possession  of  it  with  the  tenacity  of  a  growth 
on  fertile  virgin  soil.  The  good  Father  had  been  devoted 
to  the  conversion  of  the  heathen  with  the  fervor  of  a 
one-ideaed  man.  But  his  successes  had  been  among  the 
Indians  —  a  guileless,  harmless  race,  who  too  often  con- 
founded the  practical  benefits  of  civilization  with  the  ab- 
stract benefits  of  the  Church,  and  their  instruction  had 
been  simple  and  coercive.  There  had  been  no  necessity 
for  argument  or  controversy ;  the  worthy  priest's  skill  in 
polemical  warfare  and  disputation  had  never  been  brought 
into  play ;  the  Comandante  and  Alcalde  were  as  punctili- 
ously orthodox  as  himself,  and  the  small  traders  and  ar- 
tisans were  hopelessly  docile  and  submissive.  The  march 
of  science,  which  had  been  stopped  by  the  local  fogs  of 
Todos  Santos  some  fifty  years,  had  not  disturbed  the 
simple  ^Esculapius  of  the  province  with  heterodox  the- 
ories :  he  still  purged  and  bled  like  Sangrado,  and  met 
the  priest  at  the  deathbed  of  his  victims  with  a  pious 
satisfaction  that  had  no  trace  of  skeptical  contention.  In 
fact,  the  gentle  Mission  of  Todos  Santos  had  hitherto 
presented  no  field  for  the  good  Father's  exalted  ambition, 
nor  the  display  of  his  powers  as  a  zealot.  And  here  was 
a  splendid  opportunity. 

The  conversion  of  this  dark,  impulsive,  hysterical 
stranger  would  be  a  gain  to  the  fold,  and  a  triumph 
worthy  of  his  steel.  More  than  that,  if  he  had  judged  cor- 
rectly of  this  young  man's  mind  and  temperament,  they 
seemed  to  contain  those  elements  of  courage  and  sacri- 
ficial devotion  that  indicated  the  missionary  priesthood. 
With  such  a  subaltern,  what  might  not  he,  Father  Esteban, 


An  Open- Air  Prison.  103 

accomplish  !  Looking  further  into  the  future,  what  a  glo- 
rious successor  might  be  left  to  his  unfinished  work  on 
Todos  Santos  ! 

Buried  in  these  reflections,  Padre  Esteban  sauntered 
leisurely  up  the  garden,  that  gradually  ascended  the  slight 
elevation  on  which  the  greater  part  of  the  pueblo  was 
built.  Through  a  low  gateway  in  the  wall  he  passed  on 
to  the  crest  of  the  one  straggling  street  of  Todos  Santos. 
On  either  side  of  him  were  ranged  the  low  one-storied, 
deep-windowed  adobe  fondas  and  artisans'  dwellings,  with 
low-pitched  roofs  of  dull  red  pipe-like  tiles.  Absorbed  in 
his  fanciful  dreams,  he  did  not  at  first  notice  that  those 
dwellings  appeared  deserted,  and  that  even  the  Posada 
opposite  him,  whose  courtyard  was  usually  filled  with 
lounging  muleteers,  was  empty  and  abandoned.  Look- 
ing down  the  street  towards  the  plaza,  he  became  pres- 
ently aware  of  some  undefined  stirring  in  the  peaceful 
hamlet.  There  was  an  unusual  throng  in  the  square, 
and  afar  on  that  placid  surface  of  the  bay  from  which 
the  fog  had  lifted,  the  two  or  three  fishing-boats  of  Todos 
Santos  were  vaguely  pulling.  But  the  strange  ship  was 
gone. 

A  feeling  of  intense  relief  and  satisfaction  followed. 
Father  Esteban  pulled  out  his  snuff-box  and  took  a  long 
and  complacent  pinch.  But  his  relief  was  quickly  changed 
to  consternation  as  an  armed  cavalcade  rapidly  wheeled 
out  of  the  plaza  and  cantered  towards  him,  with  the  un- 
mistakable spectacle  of  the  male  passengers  of  the  Excel- 
sior riding  two  and  two,  and  guarded  by  double  files  of 
dragoons  on  each  side. 

At  a  sign  from  the  priest  the  subaltern  reined  in  his 
mustang,  halted  the  convoy,  and  saluted  respectfully,  to 
the  astonishment  of  the  prisoners.  The  clerical  author- 
ity of  Todos  Santos  evidently  dominated  the  military. 
Renewed  hope  sprang  up  in  the  hearts  of  the  Excelsior 
party. 


IO4         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  What  have  we  here  ?  "  asked  Padre  Esteban. 

"A  revolution,  your  Reverence,  among  the  Ameri- 
canos, with  robbery  of  the  Presidio  saluting-gun  ;  a  grave 
affair.  Your  Reverence  has  been  sent  for  by  the  Co- 
mandante.  I  am  taking  these  men  to  San  Antonio  to 
await  the  decision  of  the  Council." 

"  And  the  ship  ?  " 

"  Gone,  your  Reverence.  One  of  the  parties  has  cap- 
tured it." 

"  And  these  ? " 

"  Are  the  Legitimists,  your  Reverence :  at  least  they 
have  confessed  to  have  warred  with  Mexico,  and  invaded 
California  —  the  brigands." 

The  priest  remained  lost  for  a  moment  in  blank  and 
bitter  amazement.  Banks  took  advantage  of  the  pause  to 
edge  his  way  to  the  front. 

"  Ask  him,  some  of  you,"  he  said,  turning  to  Brace 
and  Crosby,  "  when  this  d — d  farce  will  be  over,  and 
where  we  can  find  the  head  man  —  the  boss  idiot  of  this 
foolery." 

"Let  him  put  it  milder,"  whispered  Winslow.  "You 
got  us  into  trouble  enough  with  your  tongue  already." 

Crosby  hesitated  a  moment. 

"  Quand  finira  ce  drole  representation? — et  —  et  — 
qui  est  ce  qui  est  1'entrepreneur  ?  "  he  said  dubiously. 

The  priest  stared.  These  Americans  were  surely  cooler 
and  less  excitable  than  his  strange  guest.  A  thought 
struck  him. 

"  How  many  are  still  in  the  ship  ?  "  he  asked  gently. 

"  Nobody  but  Perkins  and  that  piratical  crew  of  nig- 
gers." 

"And  that  infernal  Hurlstone,"  added  Winslow. 

The  priest  pricked  up  his  ears. 

"  Hurlstone  ?  "  he  repeated. 

"  Yes  —  a  passenger  like  ourselves,  as  we  supposed. 


An  Open- Air  Prison.  105 

But  we  are  satisfied  now  he  was  in  the  conspiracy  from 
the  beginning,"  translated  Crosby  painfully. 

"  Look  at  his  strange  disappearance  —  a  regular  put-up 
job,"  broke  in  Brace,  in  English,  without  reference  to  the 
Padre's  not  comprehending  him  ;  "  so  that  he  and  Perkins 
could  shut  themselves  up  together  without  suspicion." 

"  Never  mind  Hurlstone  now ;  he  's  gone,  and  we  're 
here"  said  Banks  angrily.  "Ask  the  parson,  as  a  gentle- 
man and  a  Christian,  what  sort  of  a  hole  we  've  got  into, 
anyhow.  How  far  is  the  next  settlement  ? " 

Crosby  put  the  question.   The  subaltern  lit  a  cigarette. 

"  There  is  no  next  settlement.  The  pueblo  ends  at 
San  Antonio." 

"  And  what 's  beyond  that  ?  " 

"The  ocean." 

"  And  what 's  south  ?  " 

"  The  desert  —  one  cannot  pass  it." 

"  And  north  ?  " 

"The  desert." 

"  And  east  ?  " 

"The  desert  too." 

"  Then  how  do  you  get  away  from  here  ?  " 

"  We  do  not  get  away." 

"And  how  do  you  communicate  with  Mexico  —  with 
your  Government  ? " 

"  When  a  ship  comes." 

"  And  when  does  a  ship  come  ? " 

"  Quien  sabe  ?  " 

The  officer  threw  away  his  cigarette. 

"  I  say,  you  '11  tell  the  Commander  that  all  this  is  ille- 
gal ;  and  that  I  'm  going  to  complain  to  our  Govern- 
ment," continued  Banks  hurriedly. 

"  I  go  to  speak  to  the  Comandante,"  responded  the 
priest  gravely. 

"  And  tell  him  that  if  he  touches  a  hair  of  the  ladies' 


io6         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

heads  we  '11  have  his  own  scalp,"  interrupted  Brace  im- 
petuously. 

Even  Crosby's  diplomatic  modification  of  this  speech 
did  not  appear  entirely  successful. 

"The  Mexican  soldier  wars  not  with  women,"  said  the 
priest  coldly.  "  Adieu,  messieurs  !  " 

The  cavalcade  moved  on.  The  Excelsior  passengers 
at  once  resumed  their  chorus  of  complaint,  tirade,  and 
aggressive  suggestion,  heedless  of  the  soldiers  who  rode 
stolidly  on  each  side. 

"  To  think  we  have  n't  got  a  single  revolver  among  us." 
said  Brace  despairingly. 

"  We  might  each  grab  a  carbine  from  these  nigger  fel- 
lows," said  Crosby,  eying  them  contemplatively. 

"  And  if  they  did  n't  burst,  and  we  were  n't  shot  by 
the  next  patrol,  and  if  we  'd  calculated  to  be  mean  enough 
to  run  away  from  the  women  —  where  would  we  escape 
to  ? "  asked  Banks  curtly.  "  Hold  on  at  least  until  we 
get  an  ultimatum  from  that  commodious  ass  at  the  Pre- 
sidio !  Then  we  '11  anticipate  the  fool-killer,  if  you  like. 
My  opinion  is,  they  are  n't  in  any  great  hurry  to  try  any- 
thing on  us  just  yet." 

"  And  I  say,  lie  low  and  keep  dark  until  they  show 
their  hand,"  added  Winslow,  who  had  no  relish  for  an 
indiscriminate  scrimmage,  and  had  his  own  ideas  of  pla- 
cating their  captors. 

Nevertheless,  by  degrees  they  fell  into  a  silence,  partly 
the  effect  of  the  strangely  enervating  air.  The  fog  had 
completely  risen  from  the  landscape,  and  hung  high  in 
mid-air,  through  which  an  intense  sun,  shorn  of  its  fierce- 
ness, diffused  a  lambent  warmth,  and  a  yellowish,  unctu- 
ous light,  as  if  it  had  passed  through  amber.  The  bay 
gleamed  clearly  and  distinctly  ;  not  a  shadow  flecked  its 
surface  to  the  gray  impenetrable  rampart  of  fog  that 
stretched  like  a  granite  wall  before  its  entrance.  On  one 


An  Open- Air  Prison.  107 

side  of  the  narrow  road  billows  of  monstrous  grain  undu- 
lated to  the  crest  of  the  low  hills,  that  looked  like  larger 
undulations  of  the  soil,  furrowed  by  bosky  canadas  or 
shining  arroyos.  Banks  was  startled  into  a  burst  of  pro- 
fessional admiration. 

"  There  's  enough  grain  there  to  feed  a  thousand  Todos 
Santos  ;  and  raised,  too,  with  tools  like  that,"  he  contin- 
ued, pointing  to  a  primitive  plow  that  lay  on  the  way- 
side, formed  by  a  single  forked  root.  A  passing  ox-cart, 
whose  creaking  wheels  were  made  of  a  solid  circle  of 
wood,  apparently  sawn  from  an  ordinary  log,  again 
plunged  him  into  cogitation.  Here  and  there  little  areas 
of  the  rudest  cultivation  broke  into  a  luxuriousness  of 
orange,  lime,  and  fig  trees.  The  joyous  earth  at  the 
slightest  provocation  seemed  to  smile  and  dimple  with 
fruit  and  flowers.  Everywhere  the  rare  beatitudes  of 
Todos  Santos  revealed  and  repeated  its  simple  story. 
The  fructifying  influence  of  earth  and  sky ;  the  interven- 
tion of  a  vaporous  veil  between  a  fiery  sun  and  fiery 
soil ;  the  combination  of  heat  and  moisture,  purified  of 
feverish  exhalations,  and  made  sweet  and  wholesome  by 
the  saline  breath  of  the  mighty  sea,  had  been  the  bene- 
ficent legacy  of  their  isolation,  the  munificent  compen- 
sation of  their  oblivion. 

A  gradual  arid  gentle  ascent  at  the  end  of  two  hours 
brought  the  cavalcade  to  a  halt  upon  a  rugged  upland 
with  semi-tropical  shrubbery,  and  here  and  there  larger 
trees  from  the  tierra  templada  in  the  evergreens  or  ma- 
drono. A  few  low  huts  and  corrals,  and  a  rambling  haci- 
enda, were  scattered  along  the  crest,  and  in  the  midst 
arose  a  little  votive  chapel,  flanked  by  pear-trees.  Near 
the  roadside  were  the  crumbling  edges  of  some  long-for- 
gotten excavation.  Crosby  gazed  at  it  curiously.  Touch- 
ing the  arm  of  the  officer,  he  pointed  to  it. 

"  Una  mina  de  plata,"  said  the  officer  sententiously. 


io8         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  A  mine  of  some  kind  —  silver,  I  bet !  "  said  Crosby, 
turning  to  the  others.  "  Is  it  good  —  bueno  —  you 
know  ? "  he  continued  to  the  officer,  with  vague  gesticu- 
lations. 

"  En  tiempos  pasados,"  returned  the  officer  gravely. 

"  I  wonder  what  that  means  ?  "  said  Winslow. 

But  before  Crosby  could  question  further,  the  subaltern 
signaled  to  them  to  dismount.  They  did  so,  and  their 
horses  were  led  away  to  a  little  declivity,  whence  came 
the  sound  of  running  water.  Left  to  themselves,  the 
Americans  looked  around  them.  The  cavalcade  seemed 
to  have  halted  near  the  edge  of  a  precipitous  ridge,  the 
evident  termination  of  the  road.  But  the  view  that  here 
met  their  eyes  was  unexpected  and  startling. 

The  plateau  on  which  they  stood  seemed  to  drop  sud- 
denly away,  leaving  them  on  the  rocky  shore  of  a  mo- 
notonous and  far-stretching  sea  of  waste  and  glittering 
sand.  Not  a  vestige  nor  trace  of  vegetation  could  be 
seen,  except  an  occasional  ridge  of  straggling  pallid 
bushes,  raised  in  hideous  simulation  of  the  broken  crest 
of  a  ghostly  wave.  On  either  side,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  reach,  the  hollow  empty  vision  extended  —  the  in- 
terminable desert  stretched  and  panted  before  them. 

"It's  the  jumping-off  place,  I  reckon,"  said  Crosby, 
"  and  they  Ve  brought  us  here  to  show  us  how  small  is 
our  chance  of  getting  away.  But,"  he  added,  turning  to- 
wards the  plateau  again,  "  what  are  they  doing  now  ? 
Ton  my  soul !  I  believe  they  're  going  off  —  and  leaving 
us." 

The  others  turned  as  he  spoke.  It  was  true.  The 
dragoons  were  coolly  galloping  off  the  way  they  came, 
taking  with  them  the  horses  the  Americans  had  just 
ridden, 

"  I  call  that  cool,"  said  Crosby.  "  It  looks  deuced  like 
as  if  we  were  to  be  left  here  to  graze,  like  cattle." 


An  Open-Air  Prison.  109 

"  Perhaps  that 's  their  idea  of  a  prison  in  this  coun- 
try," said  Banks.  "  There  's  certainly  no  chance  of  our 
breaking  jail  in  that  direction,"  he  added,  pointing  to  the 
desert ;  "  and  we  can't  follow  them  without  horses." 

"And  I  dare  say  they've  guarded  the  pass  in  the  road 
lower  down,"  said  Winslow. 

"We  ought  to  be  able  to  hold  our  own  here  until 
night,"  said  Brace,  "  and  then  make  a  dash  into  Todos 
Santos,  get  hold  of  some  arms,  and  join  the  ladies." 

"  The  women  are  all  right,"  said  Crosby  impatiently, 
"  and  are  better  treated  than  if  we  were  with  them.  Sup- 
pose, instead  of  maundering  over  them,  we  reconnoitre 
and  see  what  we  can  do  here.  I  'm  getting  devilishly 
hungry ;  they  can't  mean  to  starve  us,  and  if  they  do,  I 
don't  intend  to  be  starved  as  long  as  there  is  anything 
to  be  had  by  buying  or  stealing.  Come  along.  There  's 
sure  to  be  fruit  near  that  old  chapel,  and  I  saw  some 
chickens  in  the  bush  near  those  huts.  First,  let's  see  if 
there  's  any  one  about.  I  don't  see  a  soul." 

The  little  plateau,  indeed,  seemed  deserted.  In  vain 
they  shouted  ;  their  voices  were  lost  in  the  echoless  air. 
They  examined  one  by  one  the  few  thatched  huts  :  they 
were  open,  contained  one  or  two  rude  articles  of  furni- 
ture—  a  bed,  a  bench,  and  table — were  scrupulously 
clean  —  and  empty.  They  next  inspected  the  chapel  ; 
it  was  tawdry  and  barbaric  in  ornament,  but  the  candle- 
sticks and  crucifix  and  the  basin  for  holy  water  were  of 
heavily  beaten  silver.  The  same  thought  crossed  their 
minds  —  the  abandoned  mine  at  the  roadside  ! 

Bananas,  oranges,  and  prickly-pears  growing  within  the 
cactus-hedge  of  the  chapel  partly  mollified  their  thirst 
and  hunger,  and  they  turned  their  steps  towards  the  long, 
rambling,  barrack-looking  building,  with  its  low  windows 
and  red-tiled  roof,  which  they  had  first  noticed.  Here, 
too,  the  tenement  was  deserted  and  abandoned  ;  but  there 


no         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

was  evidence  of  some  previous  and  more  ambitious  prep- 
aration :  in  a  long  dormitory  off  the  corridor  a  number 
of  scrupulously  clean  beds  were  ranged  against  the  white- 
washed walls,  with  spotless  benches  and  tables.  To  the 
complete  astonishment  and  bewilderment  of  the  party 
another  room,  fitted  up  as  a  kitchen,  with  the  simpler 
appliances  of  housekeeping,  revealed  a  larder  filled  with 
provisions  and  meal.  A  shout  from  Winslow,  who  had 
penetrated  the  inner  courtyard,  however,  drew  them  to  a 
more  remarkable  spectacle.  Their  luggage  and  effects 
from  the  cabins  of  the  Excelsior  were  there,  carefully 
piled  in  the  antique  ox- cart  that  had  evidently  that  morn- 
ing brought  them  from  Todos  Santos  ! 

"  There  5s  no  mistake,"  said  Brace,  with  a  relieved 
look,  after  a  hurried  survey  of  the  trunks.  "  They  have 
only  brought  our  baggage.  The  ladies  have  evidently 
had  the  opportunity  of  selecting  their  own  things." 

"Crosby  told  you  they'd  be  all  right,"  said  Banks; 
"  and  as  for  ourselves,  I  don't  see  why  we  can't  be  pretty 
comfortable  here,  and  all  the  better  for  our  being  alone. 
I  shall  take  an  opportunity  of  looking  around  a  bit.  It 
strikes  me  that  there  are  some  resources  in  this  country 
that  might  pay  to  develop." 

"  And  I  shall  have  a  look  at  that  played-out  mine," 
said  Crosby ;  "  if  it 's  been  worked  as  they  work  the  land, 
they  've  left  about  as  much  in  it  as  they  've  taken  out." 

"  That 's  all  well  enough,"  said  Brace,  drawing  a  dull 
vermilion-colored  stone  from  his  pocket ;  "  but  here  's 
something  I  picked  up  just  now  that  ain't  'played  out,' 
nor  even  the  value  of  it  suspected  by  those  fellows. 
That 's  cinnabar  —  quicksilver  ore  —  and  a  big  per  cent, 
of  it  too  ;  and  if  there  's  as  much  of  it  here  as  the  indi- 
cations show,  you  could  buy  up  all  your  silver  mines  in 
the  country  with  it." 

"  If  I  were  you,  I  'd  put  up  a  notice  on  a  post  some- 


An  Op  en- Air  Prison.  in 

where,  as  they  do  in  California,  and  claim  discovery," 
said  Banks  seriously.  "  There  's  no  knowing  how  this 
thing  may  end.  We  may  not  get  away  from  here  for 
some  time  yet,  and  if  the  Government  will  sell  the  place 
cheap,  it  would  n't  be  a  bad  spec'  to  buy  it.  Form  a 
kind  of  '  Excelsior  Company  '  among  ourselves,  you  know, 
and  go  shares." 

The  four  men  looked  earnestly  at  each  other.  Al- 
ready the  lost  Excelsior  and  her  mutinous  crew  were  for- 
gotten ;  even  the  incidents  of  the  morning  —  their  arrest, 
the  uncertainty  of  their  fate,  and  the  fact  that  they  were 
in  the  hands  of  a  hostile  community — appeared  but  as 
trivial  preliminaries  to  the  new  life  that  opened  before 
them  !  They  suddenly  became  graver  than  they  had 
ever  been  —  even  in  the  moment  of  peril. 

"  I  don't  see  why  we  should  n't,"  said  Brace  quickly. 
"  We  started  out  to  do  that  sort  of  thing  in  California, 
and  I  reckon  if  we  'd  found  such  a  spot  as  this  on  the 
Sacramento  or  American  River  we  'd  have  been  content. 
We  can  take  turns  at  housekeeping,  prospect  a  little,  and 
enter  into  negotiations  with  the  Government.  I  'm  for 
offering  them  a  fair  sum  for  this  ridge  and  all  it  contains 
at  once." 

"  The  only  thing  against  that,"  said  Crosby  slowly,  "  is 
the  probability  that  it  is  already  devoted  to  some  other 
use  by  the  Government.  Ever  since  we  've  been  here 
I've  been  thinking — I  don't  know  why  —  that  we've 
been  put  in  a  sort  of  quarantine.  The  desertion  of  the 
place,  the  half  hospital  arrangements  of  this  building, 
and  the  means  they  have  taken  to  isolate  us  from  them- 
selves, must  mean  something.  I  Ve  read  somewhere  that 
in  these  out-of-the-way  spots  in  the  tropics  they  have  a 
place  where  they  put  the  fellows  with  malarious  or  con- 
tagious diseases.  I  don't  want  to  frighten  you  boys  :  but 
I  've  an  idea  that  we  're  in  a  sort  of  lazaretto,  and  the 
people  outside  won't  trouble  us  often." 


CHAPTER  X. 

TODOS   SANTOS    SOLVES   THE   MYSTERY. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  his  promise,  and  the  summons  of 
the  Council,  Father  Esteban,  on  parting  with  the  Ex- 
celsior prisoners  in  the  San  Antonio  Road,  did  not  pro- 
ceed immediately  to  the  presence  of  the  Comandante. 
Partly  anxious  to  inform  himself  more  thoroughly  re- 
garding Hurlstone's  antecedents  before  entering  upon 
legislative  functions  that  might  concern  him,  partly  un- 
easy at  Brace's  allusion  to  any  possible  ungentleness  in 
the  treatment  of  the  fair  Americanas,  and  partly  appre- 
hensive that  Mrs.  Brimmer  might  seek  him  at  the  Mission 
in  the  present  emergency,  the  good  Father  turned  his 
steps  towards  the  Alcalde's  house. 

Mrs.  Brimmer,  in  a  becoming  morning  wrapper,  half 
reclining  in  an  Indian  hammock  in  the  corridor,  sup- 
ported by  Miss  Chubb,  started  at  his  approach.  So  did 
the  young  Alcalde,  sympathetically  seated  at  her  side. 
Padre  Esteban  for  an  instant  was  himself  embarrassed ; 
Mrs.  Brimmer  quickly  recovered  her  usual  bewildering 
naivete. 

"  I  knew  you  would  come  ;  but  if  you  had  n't,  I  should 
have  mustered  courage  enough  to  go  with  Miss  Chubb 
to  find  you  at  the  Mission,"  she  said,  half  coquettishly. 
"Not  but  that  Don  Ramon  has  been  all  kindness  and 
consideration,  but  you  know  one  always  clings  to  one's 
spiritual  adviser  in  such  an  emergency ;  and  although 
there  are  differences  of  opinion  between  us,  I  think  I 
may  speak  to  you  as  freely  as  I  would  speak  to  my  dear 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.     113 

friend  Dr.  Potts,  of  Trinity  Chapel.  Of  course  you  don't 
know  him ;  but  you  could  n't  have  helped  liking  him, 
he  's  so  gentle,  so  tactful,  so  refined !  But  do  tell  me  the 
fullest  particulars  of  this  terrible  calamity  that  has  hap- 
pened so  awkwardly.  Tell  me  all !  I  fear  that  Don 
Ramon,  out  of  kindness,  has  not  told  me  everything.  I 
have  been  perfectly  frank,  /  told  him  everything  —  who  I 
am,  who  Mr.  Brimmer  is,  and  given  him  even  the  connec- 
tions of  my  friend  Miss  Chubb.  I  can  do  no  more  ;  but 
you  will  surely  have  no  difficulty  in  finding  some  one  in 
Todos  Santos  who  has  heard  of  the  Quincys  and  Brim- 
mers. I  Ve  no  doubt  that  there  are  books  in  your  library 
that  mention  them.  Of  course  I  can  say  nothing  of  the 
other  passengers,  except  that  Mr.  Brimmer  would  not 
have  probably  permitted  me  to  associate  with  any  noto- 
rious persons.  I  confess  now  —  I  think  I  told  you  once 
before,  Clarissa  —  that  I  greatly  doubted  Captain  Bun- 
ker's ability  "  — 

"  Ah,"  murmured  Don  Ramon. 

"  —  To  make  a  social  selection,"  continued  Mrs.  Brim- 
mer. "  He  may  have  been  a  good  sailor,  and  boxed  his 
compass,  but  he  lacked  a  knowledge  of  the  world.  Of 
the  other  passengers  I  can  truly  say  I  know  nothing ;  I 
cannot  think  that  Mr.  Crosby's  sense  of  humor  led  him 
into  bad  associations,  or  that  he  ever  went  beyond  verbal 
impropriety.  Certainly  nothing  in  Miss  Keene's  charac- 
ter has  led  me  to  believe  she  could  so  far  forget  what  was 
due  to  herself  and  to  us  as  to  address  a  lawless  mob  in 
the  streets  as  she  did  just  now  ;  although  her  friend  Mrs. 
Markham,  as  I  just  told  Don  Ramon,  is  an  advocate  of 
Women's  Rights  and  Female  Suffrage,  and  I  believe  she 
contemplates  addressing  the  public  from  the  lecturer's 
platform." 

"  It  is  n't  possible  !  "  interrupted  Don  Ramon  excit- 
edly, in  mingled  horror  of  the  masculinely  rampant  Mrs. 


H4         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Markham  and  admiration  of  the  fascinatingly  feminine 
Mrs.  Brimmer;  "a  lady  cannot  be  an  orator — a  ha- 
ranguer  of  men  !  " 

"Not  in  society,"  responded  Mrs.  Brimmer,  with  a 
sigh,  "  and  I  do  not  remember  to  have  met  the  lady  be- 
fore. The  fact  is,  she  does  not  move  in  our  circle  —  in 
the  upper  classes." 

The  Alcalde  exchanged  a  glance  with  the  Padre. 

"  Ah  !  you  have  classes  ?  and  she  is  of  a  distinct  class, 
perhaps  ? " 

"  Decidedly,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer  promptly. 

"Pardon  me,"  said  Padre  Esteban,  with  gentle  per- 
suasiveness, "  but  you  are  speaking  of  your  fellow-passen- 
gers. Know  you  not,  then,  of  one  Hurlstone,  who  is 
believed  to  be  still  in  the  ship  Excelsior,  and  perhaps  of 
the  party  who  seized  it  ?  " 

"Mr.  Hurlstone? — it  is  possible;  but  I  know  really 
nothing  of  him,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer  carele'ssly.  "  I  don't 
think  Clarissa  did,  either  —  did  you,  dear  ?  Even  in 
our  enforced  companionship  we  had  to  use  some  reserve, 
and  we  may  have  drawn  the  line  at  him  !  He  was  a 
friend  of  Miss  Keene's ;  indeed,  she  was  the  only  one 
who  seemed  to  know  him." 

"  And  she  is  now  here  ?  "  asked  the  Padre  eagerly. 

"  No.  She  is  with  her  friend  the  Senora  Markham,  at 
the  Presidio.  The  Comandante  has  given  her  the  dispo- 
sition of  his  house,"  said  Don  Ramon,  with  a  glance  of 
grave  archness  at  Mrs.  Brimmer  ;  "  it  is  not  known  which 
is  the  most  favored,  the  eloquent  orator  or  the  beautiful 
and  daring  leader  !  " 

"Mrs.  Markham  is  a  married  woman,"  said  Mrs. 
Brimmer  severely,  "  and,  of  course,  she  can  do  as  she 
pleases ;  but  it  is  far  different  with  Miss  Keene.  7 
should  scarcely  consider  it  proper  to  expose  Miss  Chubb 
to  the  hospitality  of  a  single  man,  without  other  women, 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.     1 1 5 

and  I  cannot  understand  how  she  could  leave  the  com- 
panionship and  protection  of  your  lovely  sisters." 

The  priest  here  rose,  and,  with  formal  politeness,  ex- 
cused himself,  urging  the  peremptory  summons  of  the 
Council. 

"  I  scarcely  expected,  indeed,  to  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  seeing  my  colleague  here,"  he  added  with  quiet  suavity, 
turning  to  the  Alcalde. 

"I  have  already  expressed  my  views  to  the  Coman- 
dante,"  said  the  official,  with  some  embarrassment,  "  and 
my  attendance  will  hardly  be  required." 

The  occasional  misleading  phosphorescence  of  Mrs. 
Brimmer's  quiet  eyes,  early  alluded  to  in  these  pages,  did 
not  escape  Father  Esteban's  quick  perception  at  that  mo- 
ment ;  however,  he  preferred  to  leave  his  companion  to 
follow  its  aberrations  rather  than  to  permit  that  fair  ignis 
fatuus  to  light  him  on  his  way  by  it. 

"But  my  visit  to  you,  Father  Esteban,"  she  began 
sweetly,  "  is  only  postponed." 

"  Until  I  have  the  pleasure  of  anticipating  it  here,"  said 
the  priest,  with  paternal  politeness  bending  before  the 
two  ladies ;  "  but  for  the  present,  au  revoir  !  " 

"It  would  be  an  easy  victory  to  win  this  discreetly  emo- 
tional Americana  to  the  Church,"  said  Father  Esteban  to 
himself,  as  he  crossed  the  plaza ;  "  but,  if  I  mistake  not, 
she  would  not  cease  to  be  a  disturbing  element  even  there. 
However,  she  is  not  such  as  would  give  this  Hurlstone 
any  trouble.  It  seems  I  must  look  elsewhere  for  the 
brains  of  this  party,  and  to  find  a  solution  of  this  young 
man's  mystery ;  and,  if  I  judge  correctly,  it  is  with  this 
beautiful  young  agitator  of  revolutions  and  her  oratorical 
duenna  I  must  deal." 

He  entered  the  low  gateway  of  the  Presidio  unchal- 
lenged, and  even  traversed  the  courtyard  without  meeting 
a  soul.  The  guard  and  sentries  had  evidently  withdrawn 


n6         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

to  their  habitual  peaceful  vocations,  and  the  former 
mediaeval  repose  of  the  venerable  building  had  returned. 
There  was  no  one  in  the  guard-room ;  but  as  the  priest 
turned  back  to  the  corridor,  his  quick  ear  was  suddenly 
startled  by  the  unhallowed  and  inconsistent  sounds  of 
a  guitar.  A  monotonous  voice  also  —  the  Comandante's 
evidently  —  was  raised  in  a  thin,  high  recitative. 

The  Padre  passed  hastily  through  the  guard-room,  and 
opened  the  door  of  the  passage  leading  to  the  garden 
slope.  Here  an  extraordinary  group  presented  itself  to 
his  astonished  eyes.  In  the  shadow  of  a  palm-tree,  Mrs. 
Markham,  seated  on  her  Saratoga  trunk  as  on  a  throne, 
was  gazing  blandly  down  upon  the  earnest  features  of  the 
Commander,  who,  at  her  feet,  guitar  in  hand,  was  evident- 
ly repeating  some  musical  composition.  His  subaltern 
sat  near  him,  divided  in  admiration  of  his  chief  and  the 
guest.  Miss  Keene,  at  a  little  distance,  aided  by  the  sec- 
retary, was  holding  an  animated  conversation  with  a 
short,  stout,  Sancho  Panza-looking  man,  whom  the  Padre 
recognized  as  the  doctor  of  Todos  Santos. 

At  the  apparition  of  the  reverend  Father,  the  Com- 
mander started,  the  subaltern  stared,  and  even  the  sec- 
retary and  the  doctor  looked  discomposed. 

"  I  am  decidedly  de  trop  this  morning,"  soliloquized  the 
ecclesiastic ;  but  Miss  Keene  cut  short  his  reflection  by 
running  to  him  frankly,  with  outstretched  hand. 

"  I  am  so  glad  that  you  have  come,"  she  said,  with  a 
youthful,  unrestrained  earnestness  that  was  as  convincing 
as  it  was  fascinating,  "for  you  will  help  me  to  persuade 
this  gentleman  that  poor  Captain  Bunker  is  suffering 
more  from  excitement  of  mind  than  body,  and  that  bleed- 
ing him  is  more  than  folly." 

"  The  man's  veins  are  in  a  burning  fever  and  delirium 
from  aguardiente,"  said  the  little  doctor  excitedly,  "  and 
the  fire  must  first  be  put  out  by  the  lancet." 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.      117 

"  He  is  only  crazy  with  remorse  for  having  lost  his  ship 
through  his  own  carelessness  and  the  treachery  of  others," 
said  Miss  Keene  doughtily. 

"  He  is  a  maniac  and  will  kill  himself,  unless  his  fever 
is  subdued,"  persisted  the  doctor. 

"  And  you  would  surely  kill  him  by  your  way  of  subduing 
it,"  said  the  young  girl  boldly.  "  Better  for  him,  a  dis- 
graced man  of  honor,  to  die  by  his  own  hand,  than  to  be 
bled  like  a  calf  into  a  feeble  and  helpless  dissolution.  I 
would,  if  I  were  in  his  place —  if  I  had  to  do  it  by  tearing 
off  the  bandages." 

She  made  a  swift,  half  unconscious  gesture  of  her  little 
hand,  and  stopped,  her  beautiful  eyes  sparkling,  her  thin 
pink  nostrils  dilated,  her  red  lips  parted,  her  round  throat 
lifted  in  the  air,  and  one  small  foot  advanced  before  her. 
The  men  glanced  hurriedly  at  each  other,  and  then  fixed 
their  eyes  upon  her  with  a  rapt  yet  frightened  admiration. 
To  their  simple  minds  it  was  Anarchy  and  Revolution 
personified,  beautiful,  and  victorious. 

"Ah  !  "  said  the  secretary  to  Padre  Esteban,  in  Spanish, 
"  it  is  true  !  she  knows  not  fear !  She  was  in  the  room 
alone  with  the  madman ;  he  would  let  none  approach  but 
her  !  She  took  a  knife  from  him  —  else  the  medico  had 
suffered  !  " 

"  He  recognized  her,  you  see  !  Ah  !  they  know  her 
power,"  said  the  Comandante,  joining  the  group. 

"  You  will  help  me,  Father  Esteban  ?  "  said  the  young 
girl,  letting  the  fire  of  her  dark  eyes  soften  to  a  look  of 
almost  childish  appeal  —  "  you  will  help  me  to  intercede 
for  him  ?  It  is  the  restraint  only  that  is  killing  him  —  that 
is  goading  him  to  madness !  Think  of  him,  Father  — 
think  of  him:  ruined  and  disgraced,  dying  to  retrieve 
himself  by  any  reckless  action,  any  desperate  chance  of 
recovery,  and  yet  locked  up  where  he  can  do  nothing  — 
attempt  nothing  —  not  even  lift  a  hand  to  pursue  the  man 
who  has  helped  to  bring  him  to  this !  " 


1 1 8         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  But  he  can  do  nothing  !  The  ship  is  gone  !  "  remon- 
strated the  Comandante. 

"Yes,  the  ship  is  gone  ;  but  the  ocean  is  still  there," 
said  Miss  Keene. 

"  But  he  has  no  boat." 

"  He  will  find  or  make  one." 

"  And  the  fog  conceals  the  channel." 

"  He  can  go  where  they  have  gone,  or  meet  their  fate. 
You  do  not  know  my  countrymen,  Senor  Comandante," 
she  said  proudly. 

"  Ah,  yes  —  pardon  !  They  are  at  San  Antonio  —  the 
baker,  the  buffoon,  the  two  young  men  who  dig.  They 
are  already  baking  and  digging  and  joking.  We  have  it 
from  my  officer,  who  has  just  returned." 

Miss  Keene  bit  her  pretty  lips. 

"  They  think  it  is  a  mistake ;  they  cannot  believe 
that  any  intentional  indignity  is  offered  them,"  she  said 
quietly.  "  Perhaps  it  is  well  they  do  not." 

"  They  desired  me  to  express  their  condolences  to  the 
Seriora,"  said  the  Padre,  with  exasperating  gentleness, 
"  and  were  relieved  to  be  assured  by  me  of  your  perfect 
security  in  the  hands  of  these  gentlemen." 

Miss  Keene  raised  her  clear  eyes  to  the  ecclesiastic. 
That  accomplished  diplomat  of  Todos  Santos  absolutely 
felt  confused  under  the  cool  scrutiny  of  this  girl's  un- 
biased and  unsophisticated  intelligence. 

"  Then  you  have  seen  them,"  she  said,  "  and  you  know 
their  innocence,  and  the  utter  absurdity  of  this  surveil- 
lance ?  " 

"  I  have  not  seen  them  all"  said  the  priest  softly. 
"There  is  still  another — a  Senor  Hurlstone  —  who  is 
missing  ?  Is  he  not  ?  " 

It  was  not  in  the  possibility  of  Eleanor  Keene's  truth- 
ful blood  to  do  other  than  respond  with  a  slight  color  to 
this  question.  She  had  already  concealed  from  every  one 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.      119 

the  fact  of  having  seen  the  missing  man  in  the  Mission 
garden  the  evening  before.  It  did  not,  however,  prevent 
her  the  next  moment  from  calmly  meeting  the  glance  of 
the  priest  as  she  answered  gravely,  — 

"  I  believe  so.  But  I  cannot  see  what  that  has  to  do 
with  the  detention  of  the  others." 

"  Much,  perhaps.  It  has  been  said  that  you  alone,  my 
child,  were  in  the  confidence  of  this  man." 

"  Who  dared  say  that  ? "  exclaimed  Miss  Keene  in 
English,  forgetting  herself  in  her  indignation. 

"  If  it 's  anything  mean  —  it 's  Mrs.  Brimmer,  I  '11  bet 
a  cooky,"  said  Mrs.  Markham,  whose  linguistic  deficien- 
cies had  debarred  her  from  the  previous  conversation. 

"  You  have  only,"  continued  the  priest,  without  noticing 
the  interruption,  "  to  tell  us  what  you  know  of  this  Hurl- 
stone's  plans,  —  of  his  complicity  with  Senor  Perkins, 
or,"  he  added  significantly,  "  his  opposition  to  them  —  to 
insure  that  perfect  justice  shall  be  done  to  all." 

Relieved  that  the  question  involved  no  disclosure  of 
her  only  secret  regarding  Hurlstone,  Miss  Keene  was 
about  to  repeat  the  truth  that  she  had  no  confidential 
knowledge  of  him,  or  of  his  absurd  alleged  connection 
with  Senor  Perkins,  when,  with  an  instinct  of  tact,  she 
hesitated.  Might  she  not  serve  them  all  —  even  Hurl- 
stone  himself  —  by  saying  nothing,  and  leaving  the  bur- 
den of  proof  to  their  idiotic  accusers  ?  Was  she  alto- 
gether sure  that  Hurlstone  was  entirely  ignorant  of  Senor 
Perkins'  plans,  or  might  he  not  have  refused,  at  the  last 
moment,  to  join  in  the  conspiracy,  and  so  left  the  ship  ? 

"  I  will  not  press  you  for  your  answer  now,"  said  the 
priest  gently.  "  But  you  will  not,  I  know,  keep  back 
anything  that  may  throw  a  light  on  this  sad  affair,  and 
perhaps  help  to  reinstate  your  friend  Mr.  Hurlstone  in 
his  real  position." 

"  If  you  ask  me  if  I  believe  that  Mr.  Hurlstone  had 


I2O         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

anything  to  do  with  this  conspiracy,  I  should  say,  unhesi- 
tatingly, that  I  do  not.  And  more,  I  believe  that  he 
would  have  jumped  overboard  rather  than  assent  to  so 
infamous  an  act,"  said  the  young  girl  boldly. 

"  Then  you  think  he  had  no  other  motive  for  leaving 
the  ship  ?  "  said  the  priest  slowly. 

"  Decidedly  not."  She  stopped  ;  a  curious  anxious 
look  in  the  Padre's  persistent  eyes  both  annoyed  and 
frightened  her.  "  What  other  motive  could  he  have  ? " 
she  said  coldly. 

Father  Esteban's  face  lightened. 

"  I  only  ask  because  I  think  you  would  have  known  it. 
Thank  you  for  the  assurance  all  the  same,  and  in  return 
I  promise  you  I  will  use  my  best  endeavors  with  the 
Comandante  for  your  friend  the  Captain  Bunker.  Adieu, 
my  daughter.  Adieu,  Madame  Markham,"  he  said,  as, 
taking  the  arm  of  Don  Miguel,  he  turned  with  him  and 
the  doctor  towards  the  guard-room.  The  secretary  lin- 
gered behind  for  a  moment. 

"  Fear  nothing,"  he  said,  in  whispered  English  to  Miss 
Keene.  "  I,  Ruy  Sanchez,  shall  make  you  free  of  Capi- 
tano  Bunker's  cell,"  and  passed  on. 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Markham,  when  the  two  women 
were  alone  again.  "  I  don't  pretend  to  fathom  the  be- 
fogged brains  of  Todos  Santos ;  but  as  far  as  I  can  un- 
derstand their  grown-up  child's  play,  they  are  making 
believe  this  unfortunate  Mr.  Hurlstone,  who  may  be  dead 
for  all  we  know,  is  in  revolt  against  the  United  States 
Government,  which  is  supposed  to  be  represented  by 
Senor  Perkins  and  the  Excelsior  —  think  of  that!  " 

"  But  Perkins  signed  himself  of  the  Quinquinambo 
navy  !  "  said  Miss  Keene  wonderingly. 

"  That  is  firmly  believed  by  those  idiots  to  be  one  of 
our  States.  Remember  they  know  nothing  of  what  has 
happened  anywhere  in  the  last  fifty  years.  I  dare  say 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.     121 

they  never  heard  of  filibusters  like  Perkins,  and  they 
couldn't  comprehend  him  if  they  had.  I've  given  up 
trying  to  enlighten  them,  and  I  think  they  're  grateful  for 
it.  It  makes  their  poor  dear  heads  ache." 

"  And  it  is  turning  mine  !  But,  for  Heaven's  sake,  tell 
me  what  part  I  am  supposed  to  act  in  this  farce  !  "  said 
Miss  Keene. 

"  You  are  the  friend  and  colleague  of  Hurlstone,  don't 
you  see  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Markham.  "  You  are  two  beauti- 
ful young  patriots  —  don't  blush,  my  dear !  —  endeared 
to  each  other  and  a  common  cause,  and  ready  to  die  for 
your  country  in  opposition  to  Perkins,  and  the  faint-heart- 
edness  of  such  neutrals  as  Mrs.  Brimmer,  Miss  Chubb, 
the  poor  Captain,  and  all  the  men  whom  they  have  packed 
off  to  San  Antonio." 

"  Impossible !  "  said  Miss  Keene,  yet  with  an  uneasy 
feeling  that  it  not  only  was  possible,  but  that  she  herself 
had  contributed  something  to  the  delusion.  "But  how 
do  they  account  for  my  friendship  with  you  —  you,  who 
are  supposed  to  be  a  correspondent  —  an  accomplice  of 
Perkins  ? " 

"  No,  no,"  returned  Mrs.  Markham,  with  a  half  serious 
smile,  "/  am  not  allowed  that  honor.  /  am  presumed 
to  be  only  the  disconsolate  Dulcinea  of  Perkins,  aban- 
doned by  him,  pitied  by  you,  and  converted  to  the  true 
faith  —  at  least,  that  is  what  I  make  out  from  the  broken 
English  of  that  little  secretary  of  the  Commander." 

Miss  Keene  winced. 

"  That 's  all  my  fault,  dear,"  she  said,  suddenly  entwin- 
ing her  arms  round  Mrs.  Markham,  and  hiding  her  half 
embarrassed  smile  on  the  shoulder  of  her  strong-minded 
friend ;  "  they  suggested  it  to  me,  and  I  half  assented,  to 
save  you.  Please  forgive  me." 

"Don't  think  I  am  blaming  you,  my  dear  Eleanor," 
said  Mrs.  Markham.  "  For  Heaven's  sake  assent  to  the 


122         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

wildest  and  most  extravagant  hypothesis  they  can  offer, 
if  it  will  leave  us  free  to  arrange  our  own  plans  for  get- 
ting away.  I  begin  to  think  we  were  not  a  very  harmoni- 
ous party  on  the  Excelsior,  and  most  of  our  troubles  here 
are  owing  to  that.  We  forget  we  have  fallen  among  a 
lot  of  original  saints,  as  guileless  and  as  unsophisticated 
as  our  first  parents,  who  know  nothing  of  our  customs 
and  antecedents.  They  have  accepted  us  on  what  they 
believe  to  be  our  own  showing.  From  first  to  last  we  've 
underrated  them,  forgetting  they  are  in  the  majority.  We 
can't  expect  to  correct  the  ignorance  of  fifty  years  in 
twenty-four  hours,  and  I,  for  one,  sha'n't  attempt  it.  I  'd 
much  rather  trust  to  the  character  those  people  would 
conceive  of  me  from  their  own  consciousness  than  to  one 
Mrs.  Brimmer  or  Mr.  Winslow  would  give  of  me.  From 
this  moment  I  Ve  taken  a  firm  resolve  to  leave  my  repu- 
tation and  the  reputation  of  my  friends  entirely  in  their 
hands.  If  you  are  wise  you  will  do  the  same.  They  are 
inclined  to  worship  you  —  don't  hinder  them.  My  belief 
is,  if  we  only  take  things  quietly,  we  might  find  worse 
places  to  be  stranded  on  than  Todos  Santos.  If  Mrs. 
Brimmer  and  those  men  of  ours,  who,  I  dare  say,  have 
acted  as  silly  as  the  Mexicans  themselves,  will  only  be 
quiet,  we  can  have  our  own  way  here  yet." 

"And  poor  Captain  Bunker?"  said  Miss  Keene. 

"  It  seems  hard  to  say  it,  but,  in  my  opinion,  he  is  bet- 
ter under  lock  and  key,  for  everybody's  good,  at  present. 
He  'd  be  a  firebrand  in  the  town  if  he  got  away.  Mean- 
time, let  us  go  to  our  room.  It  is  about  the  time  when 
everybody  is  taking  a  siesta,  and  for  two  hours,  thank 
Heaven  !  we  're  certain  nothing  more  can  happen." 

"  I  '11  join  you  in  a  moment,"  said  Miss  Keene. 

Her  quick  ear  had  caught  the  sound  of  voices  ap- 
proaching. As  Mrs.  Markham  disappeared  in  the  pas- 
sage, the  Commander  and  his  party  reappeared  from  the 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.     123 

guard-room,  taking  leave  of  Padre  Esteban.  The  secre- 
tary, as  he  passed  Miss  Keene,  managed  to  add  to  his 
formal  salutation  the  whispered  words,  — "  When  the 
Angelus  rings  I  will  await  you  before  the  grating  of  his 
prison." 

Padre  Esteban  was  too  preoccupied  to  observe  this  in- 
cident. As  soon  as  he  quitted  the  Presidio,  he  hastened 
to  the  Mission  with  a  disquieting  fear  that  his  strange 
guest  might  have  vanished.  But,  crossing  the  silent  re- 
fectory, and  opening  the  door  of  the  little  apartment,  he 
was  relieved  to  find  him  stretched  on  the  pallet  in  a  pro- 
found slumber.  The  peacefulness  of  the  venerable  walls 
had  laid  a  gentle  finger  on  his  weary  eyelids. 

The  Padre  glanced  round  the  little  cell,  and  back  again 
at  the  handsome  suffering  face  that  seemed  to  have  found 
surcease  and  rest  in  the  narrow  walls,  with  a  stirring  of 
regret.  But  the  next  moment  he  awakened  the  sleeper, 
and  in  the  briefest,  almost  frigid,  sentences,  related  the 
events  of  the  morning. 

The  young  man  rose  to  his  feet  with  a  bitter  laugh. 

"  You  see,"  he  said,  "  God  is  against  me  !  And  yet  a 
few  hours  ago  I  dared  to  think  that  He  had  guided  me  to 
a  haven  of  rest  and  forgetfulness  !  " 

"  Have  you  told  the  truth  to  him  and  to  me  ?  "  said  the 
priest  sternly,  "  or  have  you  —  a  mere  political  refugee  — 
taken  advantage  of  an  old  man's  weakness  to  forge  a  fool- 
ish lie  of  sentimental  passion?" 

"What  do  you  mean?"  said  Hurlstone,  turning  upon 
him  almost  fiercely. 

The  priest  rose,  and  drawing  a  folded  paper  from  his 
bosom,  opened  it  before  the  eyes  of  his  indignant  guest. 

"  Remember  what  you  told  me  last  night  in  the  sacred 
confidences  of  yonder  holy  church,  and  hear  what  you 
really  are  from  the  lips  of  the  Council  of  Todos  Santos." 

Smoothing  out  the  paper,  he  read  slowly  as  follows :  — 


124         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Whereas,  it  being  presented  to  an  Emergency  Coun- 
cil, held  at  the  Presidio  of  Todos  Santos,  that  the  foreign 
barque  Excelsior  had  mutinied,  discharged  her  captain 
and  passengers,  and  escaped  from  the  waters  of  the  bay, 
it  was,  on  examination,  found  and  decreed  that  the  said 
barque  was  a  vessel  primarily  owned  by  a  foreign  Power, 
then  and  there  confessed  and  admitted  to  be  at  war  with 
Mexico  and  equipped  to  invade  one  of  her  northern  prov- 
inces. But  that  the  God  of  Liberty  and  Justice  awaken- 
ing in  the  breasts  of  certain  patriots  —  to  wit,  the  heroic 
Senor  Diego  Hurlstone  and  the  invincible  Dona  Leonor 

—  the  courage  and  discretion  to  resist  the  tyranny  and  in- 
justice of  their  oppressors,  caused  them  to  mutiny  and 
abandon  the  vessel  rather  than  become  accomplices,  in 
the  company  of  certain  neutral  and  non-combatant  traders 
and  artisans,  severally  known  as  Brace,  Banks,  Winslow, 
and  Crosby ;  and  certain  aristocrats,  known  as  Senoras 
Brimmer  and  Chubb.     In  consideration  thereof,  it  is  de- 
creed by  the  Council  of  Todos  Santos  that  asylum,  refuge, 
hospitality,  protection,  amity,  and  alliance  be  offered  and 
extended  to  the  patriots,  Senor  Diego  Hurlstone,  Dona 
Leonor,  and  a  certain  Duenna  Susana  Markham,  partic- 
ularly attached  to  Dona  Leonor's  person  ;  and  that  war, 
reprisal,   banishment,    and    death   be    declared    against 
Senor  Perkins,  his  unknown  aiders  and  abettors.     And 
that  for  the  purposes  of  probation,  and  in  the  interests  of 
clemency,  provisional  parole  shall  be  extended  to  the  al- 
leged neutrals  —  Brace,  Banks,  Crosby,  and  Winslow  — 
within  the  limits  and  boundaries  of  the  lazaretto  of  San 
Antonio,  until  their  neutrality  shall  be  established,  and 
pending  the  further  pleasure  of  the  Council.     And  it  is 
further  decreed  and  declared  that  one  Capitano  Bunker, 
formerly  of  the  Excelsior,  but  now  a  maniac  and  lunatic 

—  being   irresponsible  and  visited  of  God,  shall  be  ex- 
empted from  the  ordinances  of  this  decree  until  his  reason 


Todos  Santos  solves  the  Mystery.     125 

shall  be  restored  ;  and  during  that  interval  subjected  to 
the  ordinary  remedial  and  beneficent  restraint  of  civiliza- 
tion and  humanity.  By  order  of  the  Council,  — 

"  The  signatures  and  rubrics  of  — 

"  DON  MIGUEL  BRIONES, 

Comandante. 
"  PADRE  ESTEBAN, 

of  the  Order  of  San  Francisco  d'Assisis. 
"  DON  RAMON  RAMIREZ, 

Alcalde  of  the  Pueblo  of  Todos  Santos." 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  CAPTAIN  FOLLOWS  HIS  SHIP. 

WHEN  Padre  Esteban  had  finished  reading  the  docu- 
ment he  laid  it  down  and  fixed  his  eyes  on  the  young  man. 
Hurlstone  met  his  look  with  a  glance  of  impatient  dis- 
dain. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  this  ?  "  asked  the  ecclesias- 
tic, a  little  impressed  by  his  manner. 

"  That  as  far  as  it  concerns  myself  it  is  a  farrago  of 
absurdity.  If  I  were  the  person  described  there,  why 
should  I  have  sought  you  with  what  you  call  a  lie  of 
*  sentimental  passion,'  when  I  could  have  claimed  pro- 
tection openly  with  my  sister  patriot"  he  added,  with  a 
bitter  laugh. 

"  Because  you  did  not  know  then  the  sympathy  of  the 
people  nor  the  decision  of  the  Council,"  said  the  priest. 

"  But  I  know  it  now,  and  I  refuse  to  accept  it." 

"  You  refuse  —  to  —  to  accept  it  ? "  echoed  the  priest. 

"  I  do."  He  walked  towards  the  door.  "  Before  I  go, 
let  me  thank  you  for  the  few  hours'  rest  and  security  that 
you  have  given  to  one  who  may  be  a  cursed  man,  yet  is 
no  impostor.  But  I  do  not  blame  you  for  doubting  one 
who  talks  like  a  desperate  man,  yet  lacks  the  courage  of 
desperation.  Good-by  !  " 

"  Where  are  you  going  ? " 

"  What  matters  ?  There  is  a  safer  protection  and  se- 
curity to  be  found  than  even  that  offered  by  the  Council 
of  Todos  Santos." 

His  eyes  were  averted,  but  not  before  the  priest  had 


The  Captain  follows  his  Ship.        127 

seen  them  glaze  again  with  the  same  gloomy  absorption 
that  had  horrified  him  in  the  church  the  evening  before. 
Father  Esteban  stepped  forward  and  placed  his  soft  hand 
on  Hurlstone's  shoulder. 

"  Look  at  me.  Don't  turn  your  face  aside,  but  hear 
me ;  for  I  believe  your  story." 

Without  raising  his  eyes,  the  young  man  lifted  Father 
Esteban's  hand  from  his  shoulder,  pressed  it  lightly,  and 
put  it  quietly  aside. 

"  I  thank  you,"  he  said,  "  for  keeping  at  least  that  un- 
stained memory  of  me.  But  it  matters  little  now.  Good- 
by!" 

He  had  his  hand  upon  the  door,  but  the  priest  again 
withheld  him. 

"  When  I  tell  you  I  believe  your  story,  it  is  only  to  tell 
you  more.  I  believe  that  God  has  directed  your  way- 
ward, wandering  feet  here  to  His  house,  that  you  may 
lay  down  the  burden  of  your  weak  and  suffering  manhood 
before  His  altar,  and  become  once  more  a  child  of  His. 
I  stand  here  to  offer  you,  not  a  refuge  of  a  day  or  a  night, 
but  for  all  time ;  not  a  hiding-place  from  man  or  woman, 
but  from  yourself,  my  son  —  yourself,  your  weak  and  mortal 
self,  more  fatal  to  you  than  all.  I  stand  here  to  open  for 
you  not  only  the  door  of  this  humble  cell,  but  that  of  His 
yonder  blessed  mansion.  You  shall  share  my  life  with 
me  ;  you  shall  be  one  of  my  disciples  ;  you  shall  help  me 
strive  for  other  souls  as  I  have  striven  for  yours  ;  the 
protection  of  the  Church,  which  is  all-powerful,  shall  be 
around  you  if  you  wish  to  be  known  ;  you  shall  hide 
yourself  in  its  mysteries  if  you  wish  to  be  forgotten.  You 
shall  be  my  child,  my  companion,  my  friend  ;  all  that  my 
age  can  give  you  shall  be  yours  while  I  live,  and  it  shall 
be  your  place  one  day  to  take  up  my  unfinished  work 
when  it  falls  from  these  palsied  hands  forever." 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  said  the  young  man  coldly.     "  I 


128         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

came  to  you  for  human  aid,  and  thank  you  for  what  you 
have  granted  me  :  I  have  not  been  presumptuous  enough 
to  ask  more,  nor  to  believe  myself  a  fitting  subject  for 
conversion.  I  am  weak,  but  not  weak  enough  to  take 
advantage  of  the  mistaken  kindness  of  either  the  tem- 
poral Council  of  Todos  Santos  or  its  spiritual  head."  He 
opened  the  door  leading  into  the  garden.  "  Forget  and 
forgive  me,  Father  Esteban,  and  let  me  say  farewell." 

"  Stop  ! "  said  the  ecclesiastic,  raising  himself  to  his 
full  height  and  stepping  before  Hurlstone.  "  Then  if  you 
will  not  hear  me  in  the  name  of  your  Father  who  lives,  in 
the  name  of  your  father  who  is  dead  I  command  you  to 
stay !  I  stand  here  to-day  in  the  place  of  that  man  I 
never  knew — to  hold  back  his  son  from  madness  and 
crime.  Think  of  me  as  of  him  whom  you  loved,  and 
grant  to  an  old  man  who  might  have  had  a  son  as  old 
as  you  the  right  of  throwing  a  father's  protecting  arm 
around  you." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do  ? "  said  Hurlstone,  sud- 
denly lifting  his  now  moist  and  glistening  eyes  upon  the 
old  man. 

"Give  me  your  word  of  honor  that  for  twenty-four 
hours  you  will  remain  as  you  are  —  pledging  yourself  to 
nothing  —  only  promising  to  commit  no  act,  take  no  step, 
without  consulting  me.  You  will  not  be  sought  here,  nor 
yet  need  you  keep  yourself  a  prisoner  in  these  gloomy 
walls  —  except  that,  by  exposing  yourself  to  the  people 
now,  you  might  be  compromised  to  some  course  that  you 
are  not  ready  to  take." 

"  I  promise,"  said  Hurlstone. 

He  turned  and  held  out  both  his  hands  ;  but  Father 
Esteban  anticipated  him  with  a  paternal  gesture  of  up- 
lifted and  opened  arms,  and  for  an  instant  the  young 
man's  forehead  was  bowed  on  the  priest's  shoulder. 


The  Captain  follows  his  Ship.        129 

Father  Esteban  gently  raised  the  young  man's  head. 

"  You  will  take  a  pasear  in  the  garden  until  the  Ange- 
lus  rings,  my  son,  while  the  air  is  sweet  and  wholesome, 
and  think  this  over.  Remember  that  you  may  accept  the 
hospitality  of  the  Council  without  sin  of  deception.  You 
were  not  in  sympathy  with  either  the  captors  of  the  Ex- 
celsior or  their  defeated  party ;  for  you  would  have  flown 
from  both.  You,  of  all  your  party  now  in  Todos  Santos, 
are  most  in  sympathy  with  us.  You  have  no  cause  to 
love  your  own  people ;  you  have  abandoned  them  for  us. 
Go,  my  son  ;  and  meditate  upon  my  words.  I  will  fetch 
you  from  yonder  slope  in  time  for  the  evening  refec- 
tion." 

Hurlstone  bowed  his  head  and  turned  his  irresolute 
feet  towards  the  upper  extremity  of  the  garden,  indicated 
by  the  priest,  which  seemed  to  offer  more  seclusion  and 
security  than  the  avenue  of  pear-trees.  He  was  dazed 
and  benumbed.  The  old  dogged  impulses  of  self-destruc- 
tion —  revived  by  the  priest's  reproaches,  but  checked  by 
the  vision  of  his  dead  and  forgotten  father,  which  the 
priest's  words  had  called  up  —  gave  way,  in  turn,  to  his 
former  despair.  With  it  came  a  craving  for  peace  and 
rest  so  insidious  that  in  some  vague  fear  of  yielding  to  it 
he  quickened  his  pace,  as  if  to  increase  his  distance  from 
the  church  and  its  apostle.  He  was  almost  out  of  breath 
when  he  reached  the  summit,  and  turned  to  look  back 
upon  the  Mission  buildings  and  the  straggling  street  of 
the  pueblo,  which  now  for  the  first  time  he  saw  skirted 
the  wall  of  the  garden  in  its  descent  towards  the  sea. 
He  had  not  known  the  full  extent  of  Todos  Sant6s 
before  ;  when  he  swam  ashore  he  had  landed  under  a 
crumbling  outwork  of  the  fort ;  he  gazed  now  with  curious 
interest  over  the  hamlet  that  might  have  been  his  home. 
He  looked  over  the  red-tiled  roofs,  and  further  on  to  the 
shining  bay,  shut  in  by  the  impenetrable  rampart  of  fog. 


130        The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

He  might  have  found  rest  and  oblivion  here  but  for  the 
intrusion  of  those  fellow-passengers  to  share  his  exile  and 
make  it  intolerable.  How  he  hated  and  loathed  them  all ! 
Yet  the  next  moment  he  found  himself  scrutinizing  the 
street  and  plaza  below  him  for  a  glimpse  of  his  country- 
women, whom  he  knew  were  still  in  the  town  or  vainly 
endeavoring  to  locate  their  habitation  among  the  red- 
tiled  roofs.  And  that  frank,  clear  -  eyed  girl  —  Miss 
Keene  !  —  she  who  had  seemed  to  vaguely  pity  him  — 
she  was  somewhere  here  too  —  selected  by  the  irony  of 
fate  to  be  his  confederate  !  He  could  not  help  thinking 
of  her  beauty  and  kindness  now,  with  a  vague  curiosity 
that  was  half  an  uneasiness.  It  had  not  struck  him  be- 
fore, but  if  he  were  to  accept  the  ridiculous  attitude 
forced  upon  him  by  Todos  Santos,  its  absurdity,  as  well 
as  its  responsibility,  would  become  less  odious  by  sharing 
it  with  another.  Perhaps  it  might  be  to  her  advantage  — 
and  if  so,  would  he  be  justified  in  exposing  its  absurdity  ? 
He  would  have  to  see  her  first  —  and  if  he  did,  how  would 
he  explain  his  real  position  ?  A  returning  wave  of  bitter- 
ness threw  him  back  into  his  old  despair. 

The  twilight  had  slowly  gathered  over  the  view  as  he 
gazed  —  or,  rather  a  luminous  concentration  above  the 
pueblo  and  bay  had  left  the  outer  circle  of  fog  denser  and 
darker.  Emboldened  by  the  apparent  desertion  of  the 
Embarcadero,  he  began  to  retrace  his  steps  down  the 
slope,  keeping  close  to  the  wall  so  as  to  avoid  passing 
before  the  church  again,  or  a  closer  contact  with  the  gar- 
dener among  the  vines.  In  this  way  he  reached  the  path 
he  had  skirted  the  night  before,  and  stopped  almost  un- 
der the  shadow  of  the  Alcalde's  house.  It  was  here  he 
had  rested  and  hidden,  —  here  he  had  tasted  the  first 
sweets  of  isolation  and  oblivion  in  the  dreamy  garden,  — 
here  he  had  looked  forward  to  peace  with  the  passing  of 
the  ship,  —  and  now  ?  The  sound  of  voices  and  laughter 


The  Captain  follows  his  Ship.        131 

suddenly  grated  upon  his  ear.  He  had  heard  those 
voices  before.  Their  distinctness  startled  him  until  he 
became  aware  that  he  was  standing  before  a  broken,  half- 
rotting  door  that  permitted  a  glimpse  of  the  courtyard  of 
the  neighboring  house.  He  glided  quickly  past  it  with- 
out pausing,  but  in  that  glimpse  beheld  Mrs.  Brimmer  and 
Miss  Chubb  half  reclining  in  the  corridor  —  in  the  atti- 
tude he  had  often  seen  them  on  the  deck  of  the  ship  — 
talking  and  laughing  with  a  group  of  Mexican  gallants. 
A  feeling  of  inconceivable  loathing  and  aversion  took  pos- 
session of  him.  Was  it  to  this  he  was  returning  after  his 
despairing  search  for  oblivion  ?  Their  empty,  idle  laugh- 
ter seemed  to  ring  mockingly  in  his  ears  as  he  hurried  on, 
scarce  knowing  whither,  until  he  paused  before  the  broken 
cactus  hedge  and  crumbling  wall  that  faced  the  Embar- 
cadero.  A  glance  over  the  hedge  showed  him  that  the 
strip  of  beach  was  deserted.  He  looked  up  the  narrow 
street ;  it  was  empty.  A  few  rapid  strides  across  it  gained 
him  the  shadow  of  the  sea-wall  of  the  Presidio,  unchecked 
and  unhindered.  The  ebbing  tide  had  left  a  foot  or  two 
of  narrow  shingle  between  the  sea  and  the  wall.  He 
crept  along  this  until,  a  hundred  yards  distant,  the  sea- 
wall reentered  inland  around  a  bastion  at  the  entrance 
of  a  moat  half  filled  at  high  tide  by  the  waters  of  the  bay, 
but  now  a  ditch  of  shallow  pools,  sand,  and  debris.  He 
leaned  against  the  bastion,  and  looked  over  the  softly 
darkening  water. 

How  quiet  it  looked,  and,  under  that  vaporous  veil, 
how  profound  and  inscrutable  !  How  easy  to  slip  into 
its  all-embracing  arms,  and  sink  into  its  yielding  bosom, 
leaving  behind  no  stain,  trace,  or  record !  A  surer  ob- 
livion than  the  Church,  which  could  not  absolve  memory, 
grant  forgetfulness,  nor  even  hide  the  ghastly  footprints 
of  its  occupants.  Here  was  obliteration.  But  was  he 
sure  of  that  ?  He  thought  of  the  body  of  the  murdered 


132         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Peruvian,  laid  out  at  the  feet  of  the  Council  by  this  same 
fickle  and  uncertain  sea ;  he  thought  of  his  own  distorted 
face  subjected  to  the  cold  curiosity  of  these  aliens  or  the 
contemptuous  pity  of  his  countrymen.  But  that  could  be 
avoided.  It  was  easy  for  him  —  a  good  swimmer  —  to 
reach  a  point  far  enough  out  in  the  channel  for  the  ebb- 
ing tides  to  carry  him  past  that  barrier  of  fog  into  the 
open  and  obliterating  oceaji.  And  then,  at  least,  it  might 
seem  as  if  he  had  attempted  to  escape  —  indeed,  if  he 
cared,  he  might  be  able  to  keep  afloat  until  he  was  picked 
up  by  some  passing  vessel,  bound  to  a  distant  land !  The 
self-delusion  pleased  him,  and  seemed  to  add  the  clinch- 
ing argument  to  his  resolution.  It  was  not  suicide ;  it 
was  escape  —  certainly  no  more  than  escape  —  he  in- 
tended !  And  this  miserable  sophism  of  self-apology,  the 
last  flashes  of  expiring  conscience,  helped  to  light  up  his 
pale,  determined  face  with  satisfaction.  He  began  coolly 
to  divest  himself  of  his  coat. 

What  was  that  ?  —  the  sound  of  some  dislodged  stones 
splashing  in  one  of  the  pools  further  up !  He  glanced 
hurriedly  round  the  wall  of  the  bastion.  A  figure  crouch- 
ing against  the  side  of  the  ditch,  as  if  concealing  itself 
from  observation  on  the  glacis  above,  was  slowly  ap- 
proaching the  sea.  Suddenly,  when  within  a  hundred 
yards  of  Hurlstone,  it  turned,  crossed  the  ditch,  rapidly 
mounted  its  crumbling  sides,  and  disappeared  over  the 
crest.  But  in  that  hurried  glimpse  he  had  recognized 
Captain  Bunker ! 

The  sudden  and  mysterious  apparition  of  this  man  pro- 
duced on  Hurlstone  an  effect  that  the  most  violent  oppo- 
sition could  not  have  created.  Without  a  thought  of  the 
terrible  purpose  it  had  interrupted,  and  obeying  some 
stronger  instinct  that  had  seized  him,  he  dashed  down 
into  the  ditch  and  up  to  the  crest  again  after  Captain 
Bunker.  But  he  had  completely  disappeared.  A  little 


The  Captain  follows  his  Ship.        133 

lagoon,  making  in  from  the  bay,  on  which  a  small  fishing- 
boat  was  riding,  and  a  solitary  fisherman  mending  his 
nets  on  the  muddy  shore  a  few  feet  from  it,  were  all  that 
was  to  be  seen. 

He  was  turning  back,  when  he  saw  the  object  of  his 
search  creeping  from  some  reeds,  on  all  fours,  with  a 
stealthy,  panther-like  movement  towards  the  unconscious 
fisherman.  Before  Hurlstone  could  utter  a  cry,  Bunker 
had  sprung  upon  the  unfortunate  man,  thrown  him  to  the 
earth,  rapidly  rolled  him  over  and  over,  enwrapping  him 
hand  and  foot  in  his  own  net,  and  involving  him  hope- 
lessly in  its  meshes.  Tossing  the  helpless  victim  —  who 
was  apparently  too  stupefied  to  call  out  —  to  one  side, 
he  was  rushing  towards  the  boat  when,  with  a  single 
bound,  Hurlstone  reached  his  side  and  laid  his  hand 
upon  his  shoulder. 

"  Captain  Bunker,  for  God's  sake  !  what  are  you  do- 
ing ? " 

Captain  Bunker  turned  slowly  and  without  apparent 
concern  towards  his  captor.  Hurlstone  fell  back  before 
the  vacant,  lack-lustre  eyes  that  were  fixed  upon  him. 

"  Captain  Bunker  's  my  name,"  said  the  madman,  in 
a  whisper.  "  Lemuel  Bunker,  of  Nantucket !  Hush  ! 
don't  waken  him,"  pointing  to  the  prostrate  fisherman  ; 
"  I  Ve  put  him  to  sleep.  I  'm  Captain  Bunker  —  old 
drunken  Bunker  —  who  stole  one  ship  from  her  owners, 
and  disgraced  himself,  and  now  is  going  to  steal  another 
—  ha,  ha  !  Let  me  go." 

"Captain  Bunker,"  said  Hurlstone,  recovering  himself 
in  time  to  prevent  the  maniac  from  dashing  into  the  wa- 
ter. "  Look  at  me.  Don't  you  know  me  ? " 

"  Yes,  yes ;  you  're  one  of  old  Bunker's  dogs  kicked 
overboard  by  Perkins.  I  'm  one  of  Perkins'  dogs  gone 
mad,  and  locked  up  by  Perkins  !  Ha,  ha  !  But  I  got 
out !  Hush  !  She  let  me  out.  She  thought  I  was  going 


134         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

to  see  the  boys  at  San  Antonio.  But  I  'm  going  off  to 
see  the  old  barque  out  there  in  the  fog.  I  'm  going  to 
chuck  Perkins  overboard  and  the  two  mates.  Let  me 

go-" 

He  struggled  violently.  Hurlstone,  fearful  of  quitting 
his  hold  to  release  the  fisherman,  whom  Captain  Bunker 
no  longer  noticed,  and  not  daring  to  increase  the  Cap- 
tain's fury  by  openly  calling  to  him,  beckoned  the  pin- 
ioned man  to  make  an  effort.  But,  paralyzed  by  fear, 
the  wretched  captive  remained  immovable,  staring  at  the 
struggling  men.  With  the  strength  of  desperation  Hurl- 
stone  at  last  forced  the  Captain  down  upon  his  knees. 

"  Listen,  Captain  !  We  '11  go  together  —  you  under- 
stand. I  '11  help  you  —  but  we  must  get  a  larger  boat 
first  —  you  know." 

"  But  they  won't  give  it,"  said  Captain  Bunker  mysteri- 
ously. "  Did  n't  you  hear  the  Council  —  the  owners  — 
the  underwriters  say :  '  He  lost  his  ship,  he  's  ruined  and 
disgraced,  for  rum,  all  for  rum  ! '  And  we  want  rum, 
you  know,  and  it 's  all  over  there,  in  the  Excelsior's 
locker !  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Hurlstone  soothingly  ;  "  but  there 's 
more  in  the  bigger  boat.  Come  with  me.  We  '11  let  the 
man  loose,  and  we  '11  make  him  show  us  his  bigger 
boat." 

It  was  an  unfortunate  suggestion  ;  for  the  Captain, 
who  had  listened  with  an  insane  chuckle,  and  allowed 
himself  to  be  taken  lightly  by  the  hand,  again  caught 
sight  of  the  prostrate  fisherman.  A  yell  broke  from  him 
—  his  former  frenzy  returned.  With  a  cry  of  "  Treachery  ! 
all  hands  on  deck  !  "  he  threw  off  Hurlstone  and  rushed 
into  the  water. 

"  Help !  "  cried  the  young  man,  springing  after  him. 
"  It  is  madness.  He  will  kill  himself  !  " 

The  water  was  shallow,  they  were  both  wading,  they 


The  Captain  follows  his  Ship.       135 

both  reached  the  boat  at  the  same  time  ;  but  the  Captain 
had  scrambled  into  the  stern-sheets,  and  cast  loose  the 
painter,  as  Hurlstone  once  more  threw  his  arms  about 
him. 

"  Hear  me,  Captain.  I  '11  go  with  you.  Listen  !  I 
know  the  way  through  the  fog.  You  understand  :  I  '11 
pilot  you ! "  He  was  desperate,  but  no  longer,  from 
despair  of  himself,  but  of  another ;  he  was  reckless,  but 
only  to  save  a  madman  from  the  fate  that  but  a  moment 
before  he  had  chosen  for  himself. 

Captain  Bunker  seemed  to  soften.  "  Get  in  for'ard," 
he  said,  in  a  lower  voice.  Hurlstone  released  his  grasp, 
but  still  clinging  to  the  boat,  which  had  now  drifted  into 
deeper  water,  made  his  way  to  the  bow.  He  was  climb- 
ing over  the  thwarts  when  a  horrified  cry  from  the  fish- 
erman ashore  and  a  jarring  laugh  in  his  ear  caused  him 
to  look  up.  But  not  in  time  to  save  himself !  The 
treacherous  maniac  had  suddenly  launched  a  blow  from 
an  oar  at  the  unsuspecting  man  as  he  was  rising  to  his 
knees.  It  missed  his  head,  but  fell  upon  his  arm  and 
shoulder,  precipitating  him  violently  into  the  sea. 

Stunned  by  the  shock,  he  sank  at  first  like  lead  to  the 
bottom.  When  he  rose  again,  with  his  returning  con- 
sciousness, he  could  see  that  Captain  Bunker  had  already 
hoisted  sail,  and,  with  the  assistance  of  his  oars,  was 
rapidly  increasing  his  distance  from  the  shore.  With  his 
returning  desperation  he  turned  to  strike  out  after  him, 
but  groaned  as  his  one  arm  sank  powerless  to  his  side. 
A  few  strokes  showed  him  the  madness  of  the  attempt ; 
a  few  more  convinced  him  that  he  himself  could  barely 
return  to  the  shore.  A  sudden  torpor  had  taken  posses- 
sion of  him  —  he  was  sinking  ! 

With  this  thought,  a  struggle  for  life  began ;  and  this 
man  who  had  just  now  sought  death  so  eagerly  —  with 
no  feeling  of  inconsistency,  with  no  physical  fear  of  dis- 


136         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

solution,  with  only  a  vague,  blind,  dogged  determination 
to  live  for  some  unknown  purpose  —  a  determination  as 
vague  and  dogged  as  his  former  ideas  of  self-destruction 
—  summoned  all  his  energies  to  reach  the  shore.  He 
struck  out  wildly,  desperately ;  once  or  twice  he  thought 
he  felt  his  feet  touch  the  bottom,  only  to  find  himself 
powerlessly  dragged  back  towards  the  sea.  With  a  final 
superhuman  effort  he  gained  at  last  a  foothold  on  the 
muddy  strand,  and,  half  scrambling,  half  crawling,  sank 
exhaustedly  beside  the  fisherman's  net.  But  the  fisher- 
man was  gone  !  He  attempted  again  to  rise  to  his  feet, 
but  a  strange  dizziness  attacked  him.  The  darkening 
landscape,  with  its  contracting  wall  of  fog ;  the  gloomy 
flat ;  the  still,  pale  sea,  as  yet  unruffled  by  the  faint  land 
breeze  that  was  slowly  wafting  the  escaping  boat  into  the 
shadowy  offing  —  all  swam  round  him  !  Through  the 
roaring  in  his  ears  he  thought  he  heard  drumbeats,  and 
the  fanfare  of  a  trumpet,  and  voices.  The  next  moment 
he  had  lost  all  consciousness. 

When  he  came  to,  he  was  lying  in  the  guard-room  of 
the  Presidio.  Among  the  group  of  people  who  sur- 
rounded him  he  recognized  the  gaunt  features  of  the 
Commander,  the  sympathetic  eyes  of  Father  Esteban, 
and  the  fisherman  who  had  disappeared.  When  he  rose 
on  his  elbow,  and  attempted  to  lift  himself  feebly,  the 
fisherman,  with  a  cry  of  gratitude,  threw  himself  on  his 
knees,  and  kissed  his  helpless  hand. 

"  He  lives,  he  lives !  your  Excellencies  !  Saints  be 
praised,  he  lives  !  The  hero  —  the  brave  Americano  — 
the  noble  caballero  who  delivered  me  from  the  mad- 
man." 

"  Who  are  you  ?  and  whence  come  you  ? "  demanded 
the  Commander  of  Hurlstone,  with  grave  austerity. 

Hurlstone  hesitated  ;  the  priest  leaned  forward  with  a 
half  anxious,  half  warning  gesture.  There  was  a  sudden 


The  Captain  follows  his  Ship.        137 

rustle  in  the  passage  •  the  crowd  gave  way  as  Miss  Keene, 
followed  by  Mrs.  Markham,  entered.  The  young  girl's 
eyes  caught  those  of  the  prostrate  man.  With  an  im- 
pulsive cry  she  ran  towards  him. 

"  Mr.  Hurlstone  !  " 

"  Hurlstone,"  echoed  the  group,  pressing  nearer  the 
astonished  man. 

The  Comandante  lifted  his  hand  gravely  with  a  ges- 
ture of  silence,  and  then  slowly  removed  his  plumed  hat. 
Every  head  was  instantly  uncovered. 

"  Long  live  our  brave  and  noble  ally,  Don  Diego ! 
Long  live  the  beautiful  Dona  Leonor !  " 

A  faint  shade  of  sadness  passed  over  the  priest's  face. 
He  glanced  from  Hurlstone  to  Miss  Keene. 

"  Then  you  have  consented  ?  "  he  whispered. 

Hurlstone  cast  a  rapid  glance  at  Eleanor  Keene. 

"  I  consent !  " 


PART  II.    FREED. 
CHAPTER  I. 

THE   MOURNERS   AT   SAN    FRANCISCO. 

THE  telegraph  operator  at  the  Golden  Gate  of  San 
Francisco  had  long  since  given  up  hope  of  the  Excelsior. 
During  the  months  of  September  and  October,  1854, 
stimulated  by  the  promised  reward,  and  often  by  the 
actual  presence  of  her  owners,  he  had  shown  zeal  and 
hope  in  his  scrutiny  of  the  incoming  ships.  The  gaunt 
arms  of  the  semaphore  at  Fort  Point,  turned  against  the 
sunset  sky,  had  regularly  recorded  the  smallest  vessel  of 
the  white-winged  fleet  which  sought  the  portal  of  the  bay 
during  that  eventful  year  of  immigration  ;  but  the  Excel- 
sior was  not  amongst  them.  At  the  close  of  the  year 
1854  she  was  a  tradition  ;  by  the  end  of  January,  1855, 
she  was  forgotten.  Had  she  been  engulfed  in  her  own 
element  she  could  not  have  been  more  completely  swal- 
lowed up  than  in  the  changes  of  that  shore  she  never 
reached.  Whatever  interest  or  hope  was  still  kept  alive 
in  solitary  breasts  the  world  never  knew.  By  the  signifi- 
cant irony  of  Fate,  even  the  old-time  semaphore  that 
should  have  signaled  her  was  abandoned  and  forgotten. 

The  mention  of  her  name  —  albeit  in  a  quiet,  uncon- 
cerned voice  —  in  the  dress-circle  of  a  San  Francisco 
theatre,  during  the  performance  of  a  popular  female 
star,  was  therefore  so  peculiar  that  it  could  only  have 
come  from  the  lips  of  some  one  personally  interested  in 
the  lost  vessel.  Yet  the  speaker  was  a  youngish,  femi- 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     139 

nine-looking  man  of  about  thirty,  notable  for  his  beardless- 
ness,  in  the  crowded  circle  of  bearded  and  moustachioed 
Californians,  and  had  been  one  of  the  most  absorbed  of 
the  enthusiastic  audience.  A  weak  smile  of  vacillating 
satisfaction  and  uneasiness  played  on  his  face  during  the 
plaudits  of  his  fellow-admirers,  as  if  he  were  alternately 
gratified  and  annoyed.  It  might  have  passed  for  a  dis- 
criminating and  truthful  criticism  of  the  performance, 
which  was  a  classical  burlesque,  wherein  the  star  dis- 
played an  unconventional  frankness  of  shapely  limbs  and 
unrestrained  gestures  and  glances  ;  but  he  applauded  the 
more  dubious  parts  equally  with  the  audience.  He  was 
evidently  familiar  with  the  performance,  for  a  look  of 
eager  expectation  greeted  most  of  the  "  business." 
Either  he  had  not  come  for  the  entire  evening,  or  he  did 
not  wish  to  appear  as  if  he  had,  as  he  sat  on  one  of  the 
back  benches  near  the  passage,  and  frequently  changed 
his  place.  He  was  well,  even  foppishly,  dressed  for  the 
period,  and  appeared  to  be  familiarly  known  to  the 
loungers  in  the  passage  as  a  man  of  some  social  popu- 
larity. 

He  had  just  been  recognized  by  a  man  of  apparently 
equal  importance  and  distinction,  who  had  quietly  and 
unconsciously  taken  a  seat  by  his  side,  and  the  recogni- 
tion appeared  equally  unexpected  and  awkward.  The 
new-comer  was  the  older  and  more  decorous-looking,  with 
an  added  formality  of  manner  and  self-assertion  that  did 
not,  however,  conceal  a  certain  habitual  shrewdness  of 
eye  and  lip.  He  wore  a  full  beard,  but  the  absence  of  a 
moustache  left  the  upper  half  of  his  handsome  and  rather 
satirical  mouth  uncovered.  His  dress  was  less  pro- 
nounced than  his  companion's,  but  of  a  type  of  older  and 
more  established  gentility. 

"  I  was  a  little  late  coming  from  the  office  to-night," 
said  the  younger  man,  with  an  embarrassed  laugh,  "  and 


140         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

I  thought  I  'd  drop  in  here  on  my  way  home.  Pretty 
rough  outside,  ain't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,  it  's  raining  and  blowing ;  so  I  thought  I 
would  n't  go  up  to  the  plaza  for  a  cab,  but  wait  here  for 
the  first  one  that  dropped  a  fare  at  the  door,  and  take  it 
on  to  the  hotel." 

"  Hold  on,  and  I  '11  go  with  you,"  said  the  young  man 
carelessly.  "  I  say,  Brimmer,"  he  added,  after  a  pause, 
with  a  sudden  assumption  of  larger  gayety,  "  there 's 
nothing  mean  about  Belle  Montgomery,  eh?  She's  a 
whole  team  and  the  little  dog  under  the  wagon,  ain't  she  ? 
Deuced  pretty  woman  !  —  no  make-up  there,  eh  ?  " 

"  She  certainly  is  a  fine  woman,"  said  Brimmer  grave- 
ly, borrowing  his  companion's  lorgnette.  "  By  the  way, 
Markham,  do  you  usually  keep  an  opera-glass  in  your 
office  in  case  of  an  emergency  like  this  ? " 

"  I  reckon  it  was  forgotten  in  my  overcoat  pocket," 
said  Markham,  with  an  embarrassed  smile. 

"Left  over  from  the  last  time,"  said  Brimmer,  rising 
from  his  seat.  "  Well,  I  'm  going  now  —  I  suppose  I  '11 
have  to  try  the  plaza." 

"  Hold  on  a  moment.  She  's  coming  on  now  —  there 
she  is  !  "  He  stopped,  his  anxious  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
stage.  Brimmer  turned  at  the  same  moment  in  no  less 
interested  absorption.  A  quick  hush  ran  through  the 
theatre ;  the  men  bent  eagerly  forward  as  the  Queen  of 
Olympus  swept  down  to  the  footlights,  and,  with  a  rav- 
ishing smile,  seemed  to  envelop  the  whole  theatre  in  a 
gracious  caress. 

"  You  know,  'pon  my  word,  Brimmer,  she  's  a  very 
superior  woman,"  gasped  Markham  excitedly,  when  the 
goddess  had  temporarily  withdrawn.  "These  fellows 
here,"  he  said,  indicating  the  audience  contemptuously, 
"  don't  know  her,  —  think  she  's  all  that  sort  of  thing, 
you  know,  —  and  come  here  just  to  look  at  her.  But  she  's 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     141 

very  accomplished  —  in  fact,  a  kind  of  literary  woman. 
Writes  devilish  good  poetry  —  only  took  up  the  stage  on 
account  of  domestic  trouble  :  drunken  husband  that  beat 
her  —  regular  affecting  story,  you  know.  These  sap- 
headed  fools  don't,  of  course,  know  that.  No,  sir ;  she  's 
a  remarkable  woman  !  I  say,  Brimmer,  look  here  !  I  " 
—  he  hesitated,  and  then  went  on  more  boldly,  as  if  he 
had  formed  a  sudden  resolution.  "  What  have  you  got  to 
do  to-night  ?  " 

Brimmer,  who  had  been  lost  in  abstraction,  started 
slightly,  and  said,  — 

"I  —  oh  !  I  Ve  got  an  appointment  with  Keene.  You 
know  he  's  off  by  the  steamer  —  day  after  to-morrow  ? " 

"  What !  He  's  not  going  off  on  that  wild-goose  chase, 
after  all  ?  Why,  the  man  's  got  Excelsior  on  the  brain ! " 
He  stopped  as  he  looked  at  Brimmer's  cold  face,  and 
suddenly  colored.  "  I  mean  his  plan  —  his  idea  's  all  non- 
sense —  you  know  that !  " 

"I  certainly  don't  agree  with  him,"  began  Brimmer 
gravely;  "but"  — 

"  The  idea,"  interrupted  Markham,  encouraged  by 
Brimmer's  beginning,  "  of  his  knocking  around  the  Gulf 
of  California,  and  getting  up  an  expedition  to  go  inland, 
just  because  a  mail-steamer  saw  a  barque  like  the  Excelsior 
off  Mazatlan  last  August.  As  if  the  Excelsior  would  n't 
have  gone  into  Mazatlan  if  it  had  been  her !  I  tell  you 
what  it  is,  Brimmer :  it 's  mighty  rough  on  you  and  me, 
and  it  ain't  the  square  thing  at  all  —  after  all  we  've 
done,  and  the  money  we  Ve  spent,  and  the  nights  we  Ve 
sat  up  over  the  Excelsior  —  to  have  this  young  fellow 
Keene  always  putting  up  the  bluff  of  his  lost  sister  on 
us  !  His  lost  sister,  indeed  !  as  if  we  had  n't  any  feel- 
ings." 

The  two  men  looked  at  each  other,  and  each  felt  it  in- 
cumbent to  look  down  and  sigh  deeply  —  not  hypocriti- 


142        The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

cally,  but  perfunctorily,  as  over  a  past  grief,  although 
anger  had  been  the  dominant  expression  of  the  speaker. 

"I  was  about  to  remark,"  said  Brimmer  practically, 
"  that  the  insurance  on  the  Excelsior  having  been  paid, 
her  loss  is  a  matter  of  commercial  record ;  and  that,  in  a 
business  point  of  view,  this  plan  of  Keene's  ain't  worth 
looking  at.  As  a  private  matter  of  our  own  feelings  — 
purely  domestic  —  there's  no  question  but  that  we  must 
sympathize  with  him,  although  he  refuses  to  let  us  join  in 
the  expenses." 

"Oh,  as  to  that,"  said  Markham  hurriedly,  "I  told 
him  to  draw  on  me  for  a  thousand  dollars  last  time  I  saw 
him.  No,  sir ;  it  ain't  that.  What  gets  me  is  this  darned 
nagging  and  simpering  around,  and  opening  old  sores, 
and  putting  on  sentimental  style,  and  doing  the  bereaved 
business  generally.  I  reckon  he  'd  be  even  horrified  to 
see  you  and  me  here  —  though  it  was  just  a  chance  with 
both  of  us." 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Brimmer  dryly.  "  He  knows 
Miss  Montgomery  already.  They  're  going  by  the  same 
steamer." 

Markham  looked  up  quickly. 

"  Impossible  !  She  's  going  by  the  other  line  to  Pan- 
ama ;  that  is "  —  he  hesitated  —  "I  heard  it  from  the 
agent." 

"  She  's  changed  her  mind,  so  Keene  says,"  returned 
Brimmer.  "  She 's  going  by  way  of  Nicaragua.  He  stops 
at  San  Juan  to  reconnoitre  the  coast  up  to  Mazatlan. 
Good-night.  It 's  no  use  waiting  here  for  a  cab  any 
longer,  I  'm  off." 

"  Hold  on  !  "  said  Markham,  struggling  out  of  a  sudden 
uneasy  reflection.  "  I  say,  Brimmer,"  he  resumed,  with 
an  enforced  smile,  which  he  tried  to  make  playful,  "  your 
engagement  with  Keene  won't  keep  you  long.  What  do 
you  say  to  having  a  little  supper  with  Miss  Montgomery, 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     143 

eh  ?  —  perfectly  proper,  you  know  —  at  our  hotel  ?  Just 
a  few  friends,  eh  ? " 

Brimmer's  eyes  and  lips  slightly  contracted. 

"  I  believe  I  am  already  invited,"  he  said  quietly. 
"  Keene  asked  me.  In  fact,  that 's  the  appointment. 
Strange  he  did  n't  speak  of  you,"  he  added  dryly. 

"I  suppose  it's  some  later  arrangement,"  Markham  re- 
plied, with  feigned  carelessness.  "  Do  you  know  her  ? " 

"  Slightly." 

"You  did  n't  say  so!" 

"  You  did  n't  ask  me,"  said  Brimmer.  "  She  came  to 
consult  me  about  South  American  affairs.  It  seems  that 
filibuster  General  Leonidas,  alias  Perkins,  whose  little 
game  we  stopped  by  that  Peruvian  contract,  actually 
landed  in  Quinquinambo  and  established  a  government. 
It  seems  she  knows  him,  has  a  great  admiration  for  him 
as  a  Liberator,  as  she  calls  him.  I  think  they  corre- 
spond ! " 

"  She 's  a  wonderful  woman,  by  jingo,  Brimmer  !  I  'd 
like  to  hear  whom  she  don't  know,"  said  Markham,  beam- 
ing with  a  patronizing  vanity.  "  There  's  you,  and  there 's 
that  filibuster,  and  old  Governor  Pico,  that  she  's  just 
snatched  bald-headed  —  I  mean,  you  know,  that  he  rec- 
ognizes her  worth,  don't  you  see  ?  Not  like  this  cattle 
you  see  here." 

"  Are  you  coming  with  me  ? "  said  Brimmer,  gravely 
buttoning  up  his  coat,  as  if  encasing  himself  in  a  panoply 
of  impervious  respectability. 

"  I  '11  join  you  at  the  hotel,"  said  Markham  hurriedly. 
"  There 's  a  man  over  there  in  the  parquet  that  I  want  to 
say  a  word  to  ;  don't  wait  for  me." 

With  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head  Mr.  Brimmer 
passed  out  into  the  lobby,  erect,  self-possessed,  and  im- 
peccable. One  or  two  of  his  commercial  colleagues  of 
maturer  age,  who  were  loitering  leisurely  by  the  wall, 


144         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

unwilling  to  compromise  themselves  by  actually  sitting 
down,  took  heart  of  grace  at  this  correct  apparition. 
Brimmer  nodded  to  them  coolly,  as  if  on  'Change,  and 
made  his  way  out  of  the  theatre.  He  had  scarcely  taken 
a  few  steps  before  a  furious  onset  of  wind  and  rain  drove 
him  into  a  doorway  for  shelter.  At  the  same  moment 
a  slouching  figure,  with  a  turned-up  coat-collar,  slipped 
past  him  and  disappeared  in  a  passage  at  his  right. 
Partly  hidden  by  his  lowered  umbrella,  Mr.  Brimmer  him- 
self escaped  notice,  but  he  instantly  recognized  his  late 
companion,  Markham.  As  he  resumed  his  way  up  the 
street  he  glanced  into  the  passage.  Halfway  down,  a 
light  flashed  upon  the  legend  "  Stage  Entrance."  Quincy 
Brimmer,  with  a  faint  smile,  passed  on  to  his  hotel. 

It  was  striking  half-past  eleven  when  Mr.  Brimmer 
again  issued  from  his  room  in  the  Oriental  and  passed 
down  a  long  corridor.  Pausing  a  moment  before  a  side 
hall  that  opened  from  it,  he  cast  a  rapid  look  up  and 
down  the  corridor,  and  then  knocked  hastily  at  a  door. 
It  was  opened  sharply  by  a  lady's  maid,  who  fell  back 
respectfully  before  Mr.  Brimmer's  all-correct  presence. 

Half  reclining  on  a  sofa  in  the  parlor  of  an  elaborate 
suite  of  apartments  was  the  woman  whom  Mr.  Brimmer 
had  a  few  hours  before  beheld  on  the  stage  of  the  theatre. 
Lifting  her  eyes  languidly  from  a  book  that  lay  ostenta- 
tiously on  her  lap,  she  beckoned  her  visitor  to  approach. 
She  was  a  woman  still  young,  whose  statuesque  beauty 
had  but  slightly  suffered  from  cosmetics,  late  hours,  and 
the  habitual  indulgence  of  certain  hysterical  emotions 
that  were  not  only  inconsistent  with  the  classical  sugges- 
tions of  her  figure,  but  had  left  traces  not  unlike  the 
grosser  excitement  of  alcoholic  stimulation.  She  looked 
like  a  tinted  statue  whose  slight  mutations  through  stress 
of  time  and  weather  had  been  unwisely  repaired  by  fresh- 
ness of  color. 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     145 

"  I  am  such  a  creature  of  nerves,"  she  said,  raising  a 
superb  neck  and  extending  a  goddess-like  arm,  "  that  I 
am  always  perfectly  exhausted  after  the  performance.  I 
fly,  as  you  see,  to  my  first  love  —  poetry  —  as  soon  as 
Rosina  has  changed  my  dress.  It  is  not  generally  known 
—  but  I  don't  mind  telling  you  —  that  I  often  nerve  my- 
self for  the  effort  of  acting  by  reading  some  well-remem- 
bered passage  from  my  favorite  poets,  as  I  stand  by  the 
wings.  I  quaff,  as  one  might  say,  a  single  draught  of  the 
Pierian  spring  before  I  go  on." 

The  exact  relations  between  the  humorous  "  walk 
round,"  in  which  Miss  Montgomery  usually  made  her 
first  entrance,  and  the  volume  of  Byron  she  held  in  her 
hand,  did  not  trouble  Mr.  Brimmer  so  much  as  the  beau- 
tiful arm  with  which  she  emphasized  it.  Neither  did  it 
strike  him  that  the  distinguishing  indications  of  a  poetic 
exaltation  were  at  all  unlike  the  effects  of  a  grosser  stim- 
ulant known  as  "  Champagne  cocktail "  on  the  less  sen- 
sitive organization  of  her  colleagues.  Touched  by  her 
melancholy  but  fascinating  smile,  he  said  gallantly  that 
he  had  observed  no  sign  of  exhaustion,  or  want  of  power 
in  her  performance  that  evening. 

"  Then  you  were  there  ! "  she  said,  fixing  her  eyes 
upon  him  with  an  expression  of  mournful  gratitude. 
"  You  actually  left  your  business  and  the  calls  of  public 
duty  to  see  the  poor  mountebank  perform  her  nightly 
task." 

"  I  was  there  with  a  friend  of  yours,"  answered  Brim- 
mer soberly,  "who  actually  asked  me  to  the  supper  to 
which  Mr.  Keene  had  already  invited  me,  and  which  you 
had  been  kind  enough  to  suggest  to  me  a  week  ago." 

"  True,  I  had  forgotten,"  said  Miss  Montgomery,  with 
a  large  goddess-like  indifference  that  was  more  effective 
with  the  man  before  her  than  the  most  elaborate  expla- 
nation. "  You  don't  mind  them  —  do  you  ?  —  for  we  are 


146         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

all  friends  together.  My  position,  you  know,"  she  added 
sadly,  "prevents  my  always  following  my  own  inclina- 
tions or  preferences.  Poor  Markham,  I  fear  the  world 
does  not  do  justice  to  his  gentle,  impressible  nature.  I 
sympathize  with  him  deeply ;  we  have  both  had  our  afflic- 
tions, we  have  both  —  lost.  Good  heavens  ! "  she  ex- 
claimed, with  a  sudden  exaggerated  start  of  horror,  "what 
have  I  done  ?  Forgive  my  want  of  tact,  dear  friend ; 
I  had  forgotten,  wretched  being  that  I  am,  that  you, 
too  "  — 

She  caught  his  hand  in  both  hers,  and  bowed  her  head 
over  it  as  if  unable  to  finish  her  sentence. 

Brimmer,  who  had  been  utterly  mystified  and  amazed 
at  this  picture  of  Markham's  disconsolate  attitude  to  the 
world,  and  particularly  to  the  woman  before  him,  was 
completely  finished  by  this  later  tribute  to  his  own  afflic- 
tion. His  usually  composed  features,  however,  easily 
took  upon  themselves  a  graver  cast  as  he  kept,  and 
pressed,  the  warm  hands  in  his  own. 

"  Fool  that  I  was,"  continued  Miss  Montgomery  ;  "  in 
thinking  of  poor  Markham's  childlike,  open  grief,  I  forgot 
the  deeper  sorrow  that  the  more  manly  heart  experiences 
under  an  exterior  that  seems  cold  and  impassible.  Yes," 
she  said,  raising  her  languid  eyes  to  Brimmer,  "  I  ought 
to  have  felt  the  throb  of  that  volcano  under  its  mask  of 
snow.  You  have  taught  me  a  lesson." 

Withdrawing  her  hands  hastily,  as  if  the  volcano  had 
shown  some  signs  of  activity,  she  leaned  back  on  the 
sofa  again. 

"  You  are  not  yet  reconciled  to  Mr.  Keene's  expedi- 
tion, then  ? "  she  asked  languidly. 

"  I  believe  that  everything  has  been  already  done," 
said  Brimmer,  somewhat  stiffly ;  "  all  sources  of  sensible 
inquiry  have  been  exhausted  by  me.  But  I  envy  Keene 
the  eminently  practical  advantages  his  impractical  jour- 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     147 

ney  gives  him,"  he  added,  arresting  himself,  gallantly ; 
"  he  goes  with  you." 

"  Truly  !  "  said  Miss  Montgomery,  with  the  melancholy 
abstraction  of  a  stage  soliloquy.  "  Beyond  obeying  the 
dictates  of  his  brotherly  affection,  he  gains  no  real  ad- 
vantage in  learning  whether  his  sister  is  alive  or  dead. 
The  surety  of  her  death  would  not  make  him  freer  than 
he  is  now  —  freer  to  absolutely  follow  the  dictates  of  a 
new  affection  ;  free  to  make  his  own  life  again.  It  is  a 
sister,  not  a  wife,  he  seeks." 

Mr.  Brimmer's  forehead  slightly  contracted.  He 
leaned  back  a  little  more  rigidly  in  his  chair,  and  fixed  a 
critical,  half  supercilious  look  upon  her.  She  did  not 
seem  to  notice  his  almost  impertinent  scrutiny,  but  sat 
silent,  with  her  eyes  bent  on  the  carpet,  in  gloomy  ab- 
straction. 

"  Can  you  keep  a  secret  ?  "  she  said,  as  if  with  a  sudden 
resolution. 

"Yes,"  said  Brimmer  briefly,  without  changing  his 
look. 

"  You  know  I  am  a  married  woman.  You  have  heard 
the  story  of  my  wrongs  ? " 

"  I  have  heard  them,"  said  Brimmer  dryly. 

"  Well,  the  husband  who  abused  and  deserted  me  was, 
I  have  reason  to  believe,  a  passenger  on  the  Excelsior." 

"  M'Corkle  !  —  impossible.  There  was  no  such  name 
on  the  passenger  list." 

"  M'Corkle ! "  repeated  Miss  Montgomery,  with  a  dis- 
sonant tone  in  her  voice  and  a  slight  flash  in  her  eyes. 
"  What  are  you  thinking  of  ?  There  never  was  a  Mr. 
M'Corkle  ;  it  was  one  of  my  noms  de  plume.  And  where 
did  you  hear  it  ?  " 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  must  have  got  it  from  the  press 
notices  of  your  book  of  poetry.  I  knew  that  Montgomery 
was  only  a  stage  name,  and  as  it  was  necessary  that  I 


148         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

should  have  another  in  making  the  business  investments 
you  were  good  enough  to  charge  me  with,  I  used  what  I 
thought  was  your  real  name.  It  can  be  changed,  or  you 
can  sign  M'Corkle." 

"Let  it  go,"  said  Miss  Montgomery,  resuming  her 
former  manner.  "  What  matters  ?  I  wish  there  was  no 
such  thing  as  business.  Well,"  she  resumed,  after  a 
pause,  "  my  husband's  name  is  Hurlstone." 

"But  there  was  no  Hurlstone  on  the  passenger  list 
either,"  said  Brimmer.  "  I  knew  them  all,  and  their 
friends." 

"  Not  in  the  list  from  the  States ;  but  if  he  came  on 
board  at  Callao,  you  would  n't  have  known  it.  /  knew 
that  he  arrived  there  on  the  Osprey  a  few  days  before  the 
Excelsior  sailed." 

Mr.  Brimmer's  eyes  changed  their  expression. 

"  And  you  want  to  find  him  ?  " 

"  No,"  she  said,  with  an  actress's  gesture.  "  I  want 
to  know  the  truth.  I  want  to  know  if  I  am  still  tied  to 
this  man,  or  if  I  am  free  to  follow  the  dictates  of  my  own 
conscience,  —  to  make  my  life  anew,  —  to  become  —  you 
see  I  am  not  ashamed  to  say  it  —  to  become  the  honest 
wife  of.  some  honest  man." 

"  A  divorce  would  suit  your  purpose  equally,"  said 
Brimmer  coldly.  "It  can  be  easily  obtained." 

"  A  divorce  !  Do  you  know  what  that  means  to  a 
woman  in  my  profession  ?  It  is  a  badge  of  shame,  —  a 
certificate  of  disgrace,  —  an  advertisement  to  every  miser- 
able wretch  who  follows  me  with  his  advances  that  I 
have  no  longer  the  sanctity  of  girlhood,  nor  the  protec- 
tion of  a  wife." 

There  was  tragic  emotion  in  her  voice,  there  were  tears 
in  her  eyes.  Mr.  Brimmer,  gazing  at  her  with  what  he 
firmly  thought  to  be  absolute  and  incisive  penetration, 
did  not  believe  either.  But  like  most  practical  analysts 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     149 

of  the  half-motived  sex,  he  was  only  half  right.  The  emo- 
tion and  the  tears  were  as  real  as  anything  else  in  the 
woman  under  criticism,  notwithstanding  that  they  were 
not  as  real  as  they  would  have  been  in  the  man  who  crit- 
icised. He,  however,  did  her  full  justice  on  a  point 
where  most  men  and  all  women  misjudged  her :  he  be- 
lieved that,  through  instinct  and  calculation,  she  had  been 
materially  faithful  to  her  husband  ;  that  this  large  god- 
dess-like physique  had  all  the  impeccability  of  a  goddess  • 
that  the  hysterical  dissipation  in  which  she  indulged  her- 
self was  purely  mental,  and  usurped  and  preoccupied  all 
other  emotions.  In  this  public  exposition  of  her  beauty 
there  was  no  sense  of  shame,  for  there  was  no  sense  of 
the  passion  it  evoked.  And  he  was  right.  But  there  he 
should  have  stopped.  Unfortunately,  his  masculine  logic 
forced  him  to  supply  a  reason  for  her  coldness  in  the 
existence  of  some  more  absorbing  passion.  He  believed 
her  ambitious  and  calculating  :  she  was  neither.  He  be- 
lieved she  might  have  made  him  an  admirable  copartner 
and  practical  helpmeet :  he  was  wrong. 

"You  know  my  secret  now,"  she  continued.  "You 
know  why  I  am  anxious  to  know  my  fate.  You  under- 
stand now  why  I  sympathize  with"  —  she  stopped,  and 
made  a  half  contemptuous  gesture  —  "  with  these  men 
Markham  and  Keene.  They  do  not  know  it ;  perhaps 
they  prefer  to  listen  to  their  own  vanity  —  that 's  the  way 
of  most  men  ;  but  you  do  know  it,  and  you  have  no  ex- 
cuse for  misjudging  me,  or  undeceiving  them."  She 
stopped  and  looked  at  the  clock.  "  They  will  be  here 
in  five  minutes ;  do  you  wish  them  to  find  you  already 
here  ? " 

"  It  is  as  you  wish,"  stammered  Brimmer,  completely 
losing  his  self-possession. 

"  I  have  no  wish,"  she  said,  with  a  sublime  gesture  of 


150         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

indifference.  "  If  you  wait  you  can  entertain  them  here, 
while  Rosina  is  dressing  me  in  the  next  room.  We  sup 
in  the  larger  room  across  the  hall." 

As  she  disappeared,  Quincy  Brimmer  rose  irresolutely 
from  his  seat  and  checked  a  half  uttered  exclamation. 
Then  he  turned  nervously  to  the  parlor-door.  What  a 
senseless  idiot  he  had  become  !  He  had  never  for  an 
instant  conceived  the  idea  of  making  this  preliminary 
confidential  visit  known  to  the  others  ;  he  had  no  wish  to 
suggest  the  appearance  of  an  assignation  with  the  woman, 
who,  rightly  or  wrongly,  was  notorious ;  he  had  nothing 
to  gain  by  this  voluntary  assumption  of  a  compromising 
attitude  ;  yet  here  he  was,  he  —  Mr.  Brimmer  —  with  the 
appearance  of  being  installed  in  her  parlor,  receiving  her 
visitors,  and  dispensing  her  courtesies.  Only  a  man  reck- 
lessly in  love  would  be  guilty  of  such  an  indiscretion  — 
even  Markham's  feebleness  had  never  reached  this  ab- 
surdity. In  the  midst  of  his  uneasiness  there  was  a 
knock  at  the  door ;  he  opened  it  himself  nervously  and 
sharply.  Markham's  self  -  satisfied  face  drew  back  in 
alarm  and  embarrassment  at  the  unexpected  apparition. 
The  sight  restored  Brimmer's  coolness  and  satirical  self- 
possession. 

"I  —  I  —  did  n't  know  you  were  here,"  stammered 
Markham.  "  I  left  Keene  in  your  room." 

"  Then  why  did  n't  you  bring  him  along  with  you  ? " 
said  Brimmer  maliciously.  "Go  and  fetch  him." 

"  Yes  ;  but  he  said  you  were  to  meet  him  there,"  con- 
tinued Markham,  glancing  around  the  empty  room  with  a 
slight  expression  of  relief. 

"  My  watch  was  twenty  minutes  fast,  and  I  had  given 
him  up,"  said  Brimmer,  with  mendacious  effrontery. 
"  Miss  Montgomery  is  dressing.  You  can  bring  him  here 
before  she  returns." 


The  Mourners  at  San  Francisco.     151 

Markham  flew  uneasily  down  the  corridor  and  quickly 
returned  with  a  handsome  young  fellow  of  five-and-twenty, 
whose  frank  face  was  beaming  with  excitement  and  youth- 
ful energy.  The  two  elder  men  could  not  help  regarding 
him  with  a  mingled  feeling  of  envy  and  compassion. 

"  Did  you  tell  Brimmer  yet  ? "  said  Keene,  with  anima- 
tion. 

"  I  have  n't  had  time,"  hesitated  Markham.  "  The  fact 
is,  Brimmer,  I  think  of  going  with  Keene  on  this  expedi- 
tion." 

"  Indeed  !  "  said  Brimmer  superciliously. 

"  Yes,"  said  Markham,  coloring  slightly.  "  You  see, 
we  've  got  news.  Tell  him,  Dick." 

"  The  Storm  Cloud  got  in  yesterday  from  Valparaiso 
and  Central  American  ports,"  said  Keene,  with  glowing 
cheeks.  "  I  boarded  her,  as  usual,  last  night,  for  informa- 
tion. The  mate  says  there  is  a  story  of  a  man  picked  up 
crazy,  in  an  open  fishing-boat,  somewhere  off  the  penin- 
sula, and  brought  into  hospital  at  San  Juan  last  August. 
He  recovered  enough  lately  to  tell  his  story  and  claim  to 
be  Captain  Bunker  of  the  Excelsior,  whose  crew  mutinied 
and  ran  her  ashore  in  a  fog.  But  the  boat  in  which  he 
was  picked  up  was  a  Mexican  fishing-boat,  and  there  was 
something  revolutionary  and  political  about  the  story,  so 
that  the  authorities  detained  him.  The  consul  has  just 
been  informed  of  the  circumstances,  and  has  taken  the 
matter  in  hand." 

"  It 's  a  queer  story,"  said  Brimmer,  gazing  from  the 
one  to  the  other,  "  and  I  will  look  into  it  also  to-morrow. 
If  it  is  true,"  he  added  slowly,  "  I  will  go  with  you." 

Richard  Keene  extended  his  hand  impulsively  to  his 
two  elders. 

"  You  '11  excuse  me  for  saying  it,  Brimmer  —  and  you, 
too,  Markham  —  but  this  is  just  what  I  Ve  been  looking 
forward  to.  Not  but  what  I  'd  have  found  Nell  without 


152         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

your  assistance  ;  but  you  see,  boys,  it  did  look  mighty 
mean  in  me  to  make  more  fuss  about  a  sister  than  you 
would  for  your  wives  !  But  now  that  it 's  all  settled  "  — 
"  We  ?11  go  to  supper,"  said  Miss  Montgomery  theatri- 
cally, appearing  at  the  door.  "  Dick  will  give  me  his 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE   MOURNERS  AT  TODOS   SANTOS. 

THERE  was  a  breath  of  spring  in  the  soft  morning  air 
of  Todos  Santos  —  a  breath  so  subtle  and  odorous  that 
it  penetrated  the  veil  of  fog  beyond  the  bay,  and  for  a 
moment  lingered  on  the  deck  of  a  passing  steamer  like 
an  arresting  memory.  But  only  for  an  instant  ;  the 
Ometepe,  bound  from  San  Francisco  to  San  Juan  del 
Norte,  with  its  four  seekers  of  the  Excelsior,  rolled  and 
plunged  on  its  way  unconsciously. 

Within  the  bay  and  over  the  restful  pueblo  still  dwelt 
the  golden  haze  of  its  perpetual  summer ;  the  two  towers 
of  the  old  Mission  church  seemed  to  dissolve  softly  into 
the  mellow  upper  twilight,  and  the  undulating  valleys 
rolled  their  green  waves  up  to  the  wooded  heights  of  San 
Antonio,  that  still  smiled  down  upon  the  arid,  pallid 
desert.  But  although  Nature  had  not  changed  in  the 
months  that  had  passed  since  the  advent  of  the  Excelsior, 
there  appeared  some  strange  mutations  in  the  town  and 
its  inhabitants.  On  the  beach  below  the  Presidio  was 
the  unfinished  skeleton  of  a  small  sea-going  vessel  on 
rude  stocks  ;  on  the  plaza  rose  the  framed  walls  and  roof- 
less rafters  of  a  wooden  building  ;  near  the  Embarcadero 
was  the  tall  adobe  chimney  of  some  inchoate  manufactory 
whose  walls  had  half  risen  from  their  foundations  ;  but  all 
of  these  objects  had  evidently  succumbed  to  the  drowsy 
influence  of  the  climate,  and  already  had  taken  the  ap- 
pearances of  later  and  less  picturesque  ruins  of  the  past. 
There  were  singular  innovations  in  the  costumes  :  one  or 


154         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

two  umbrellas,  used  as  sunshades,  were  seen  upon  the 
square  ;  a  few  small  chip  hats  had  taken  the  place  of  the 
stiff  sombreros,  with  an  occasional  tall  white  beaver ; 
while  linen  coat  and  nankeen  trousers  had,  at  times, 
usurped  the  short  velvet  jacket  and  loose  calzas  of  the 
national  costume. 

At  San  Antonio  the  change  was  still  more  perceptible. 
Beside  the  yawning  pit  of  the  abandoned  silver  mine  a 
straggling  building  arose,  filled  with  rude  machinery, 
bearing  the  legend,  painted  in  glowing  letters,  "  Excel- 
sior Silver  Mining  Co.,  J.  Crosby,  Superintendent ;  "  and 
in  the  midst  of  certain  excavations  assailing  the  integrity 
of  the  cliff  itself  was  another  small  building,  scarcely 
larger  than  a  sentry-box,  with  the  inscription,  "  Office : 
Eleanor  Quicksilver  Smelting  Works." 

Basking  in  that  yellow  morning  sunlight,  with  his  back 
against  his  office,  Mr.  Brace  was  seated  on  the  ground, 
rolling  a  cigarette.  A  few  feet  from  him  Crosby,  ex- 
tended on  his  back  on  the  ground,  was  lazily  puffing 
rings  of  smoke  into  the  still  air.  Both  of  these  young 
gentlemen  were  dressed  in  exaggerated  Mexican  cos- 
tumes ;  the  silver  buttons  fringing  the  edge  of  Crosby's 
calza,  open  from  the  knee  down  to  show  a  glimpse  of  the 
snowy  under-trouser,  were  richer  and  heavier  than  those 
usually  worn  ;  while  Brace,  in  addition  to  the  crimson 
silk  sash  round  his  waist,  wore  a  crimson  handkerchief 
around  his  head,  under  his  sombrero. 

"  Pepe  's  falling  off  in  his  tobacco,"  said  Brace.  "  I 
think  I  '11  have  to  try  some  other  Fonda." 

"  How 's  Banks  getting  on  with  his  crop  ? "  asked 
Crosby.  "  You  know  he  was  going  to  revolutionize  the 
business,  and  cut  out  Cuba  on  that  hillside." 

"  Oh,  the  usual  luck !  He  could  n't  get  proper  culti- 
vators, and  the  Injins  would  n't  work  regular.  I  must 
try  and  get  hold  of  some  of  the  Comandante's  stock; 


The  Mourners  at  Todos  Santos.      155 

but  I'm  out  of  favor  with  the  old  man  since  Winslow 
and  I  wrecked  that  fishing-boat  on  the  rocks  off  yonder. 
He  always  believed  we  were  trying  to  run  off,  like  Cap- 
tain Bunker.  That 's  why  he  stopped  our  shipbuilding, 
I  really  believe." 

"  All  the  same,  we  might  have  had  it  built  and  ready 
now  but  for  our  laziness.  We  might  have  worked  on  it 
nights  without  their  knowing  it,  and  slipped  off  some 
morning  in  the  fog." 

"  And  we  would  n't  have  got  one  of  the  women  to  go 
with  us  !  If  we  are  getting  shiftless  here  —  and  I  don't 
say  we  're  not  —  these  women  have  just  planted  them- 
selves and  have  taken  root.  But  that  ain't  all :  there 's 
the  influence  of  that  infernal  sneak  Hurlstone  !  He  's 
set  the  Comandante  against  us,  you  know ;  he,  and  the 
priest,  the  Comandante,  and  Nelly  Keene  make  up  the 
real  Council  of  Todos  Santos.  Between  them  they  Ve 
shoved  out  the  poor  little  Alcalde,  who  's  ready  to  give 
up  everything  to  dance  attendance  on  Mrs.  Brimmer. 
They  run  the  whole  concern,  and  they  give  out  that  it 's 
owing  to  them  that  we  're  given  parole  of  the  town,  and 
the  privilege  of  spending  our  money  and  working  these 
mines.  Who  'd  have  thought  that  sneak  Hurlstone  would 
have  played  his  cards  so  well  ?  It  makes  me  regularly 
sick  to  hear  him  called  '  Don  Diego.'  " 

"  Yet  you  're  mightily  tickled  when  that  black-eyed  sis- 
ter of  the  Alcalde  calls  you  '  Don  Carlos,' "  said  Crosby, 
yawning. 

"  Dona  Isabel,"  said  Brace,  with  some  empressement, 
"  is  a  lady  of  position,  and  these  are  only  her  national 
courtesies." 

"  She  just  worships  Miss  Keene,  and  I  reckon  she 
knows  by  this  time  all  about  your  old  attentions  to  her 
friend,"  said  Crosby,  with  lazy  mischief. 

"  My  attentions  to  Miss  Keene  were  simply  those  of 


156         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

an  ordinary  acquaintance,  and  were  never  as  strongly 
marked  as  yours  to  Mrs.  Brimmer." 

"Who  has  deserted  me  as  Miss  Keene  did  you"  re- 
joined Crosby. 

Brace's  quick  color  had  risen  again,  and  he  would  have 
made  some  sharp  retort,  but  the  jingling  of  spurs  caught 
his  ear.  They  both  turned  quickly,  and  saw  Banks  ap- 
proaching. He  was  dressed  as  a  vaquero,  but  with  his 
companions'  like  exaggeration  of  detail;  yet,  while  his 
spurs  were  enormous,  and  his  sombrero  unusually  ex- 
pansive, he  still  clung  to  his  high  shirt-collars  and  ac- 
curately tied  check  cravat. 

"  Well  ?  "  he  said,  approaching  them. 

"Well? "said  Crosby. 

"Well?  "repeated  Brace. 

After  this  national  salutation,  the  three  Americans 
regarded  each  other  silently. 

"  Knocked  off  cultivating  to-day  ?  "  queried  Crosby, 
lighting  a  fresh  cigarette. 

"The  peons  have,"  said  Banks;  "it's  another  saint's 
day.  That 's  the  fourth  in  two  weeks.  Leaves  about 
two  clear  working  days  in  each  week,  counting  for  the 
days  off,  when  they  're  getting  over  the  effects  of  the 
others.  I  tell  you  what,  sir,  the  Catholic  religion  is  not 
suited  to  a  working  civilization,  or  else  the  calendar 
ought  to  be  overhauled  and  a  lot  of  these  saints  put  on 
the  retired  list.  It 's  hard  enough  to  have  all  the  Apos- 
tles on  your  pay-roll,  so  to  speak,  but  to  have  a  lot  of  fel- 
lows run  in  on  you  as  saints,  and  some  of  them  not  even 
men  or  women,  but  ideas,  is  piling  up  the  agony  !  I  don't 
wonder  they  call  the  place  'All  Saints.'  The  only  thing 
to  do,"  continued  Banks  severely,  "  is  to  open  communi- 
cation with  the  desert,  and  run  in  some  of  the  heathen 
tribes  outside.  I  've  made  a  proposition  to  the  Council 
offering  to  take  five  hundred  of  them  in  the  raw,  unre- 


The  Mourners  at  Todos  Santos.      157 

generate  state,  and  turn  'em  over  after  a  year  to  the 
Church.  If  I  could  get  Hurlstone  to  do  some  log-rolling 
with  that  Padre,  his  friend,  I  might  get  the  bill  through. 
But  I  'm  always  put  off  till  to-morrow.  Everything  here 
is  *  Hasta  manana ;  hasta  manana,'  always.  I  believe 
when  the  last  trump  is  sounded,  they  '11  say,  *  Hasta 
manana.'  What  are  you  doing  ? "  he  said,  after  a  pause. 

"Waiting  for  your  ship,"  answered  Crosby  sarcasti- 
cally. 

"Well,  you  can  laugh,  gentlemen  —  but  you  won't  have 
to  wait  long.  According  to  my  calculations  that  Mexican 
ship  is  about  due  now.  And  I  ain't  basing  my  figures  on 
anything  the  Mexican  Government  is  going  to  do,  or  any 
commercial  speculation.  I  'm  reckoning  on  the  Catholic 
Church." 

The  two  men  languidly  looked  towards  him.  Banks 
continued  gravely,  — 

"  I  made  the  proper  inquiries,  and  I  find  that  the  stock 
of  rosaries,  scapularies,  blessed  candles,  and  other  ec- 
clesiastical goods,  is  running  low.  I  find  that  just  at  the 
nick  of  time  a  fresh  supply  always  comes  from  the  Bishop 
of  Guadalajara,  with  instructions  from  the  Church.  Now, 
gentlemen,  my  opinion  is  that  the  Church,  and  the  Church 
only,  knows  the  secret  of  the  passage  through  the  foggy 
channel,  and  keeps  it  to  itself.  I  look  at  this  commer- 
cially, as  a  question  of  demand  and  supply.  Well,  sir,  the 
only  real  trader  here  at  Todos  Santos  is  the  Church." 

"  Then  you  don't  take  in  account  the  interests  of  Brim- 
mer, Markham,  and  Keene,"  said  Brace.  "  Do  you  sup- 
pose they  're  doing  nothing  ?  " 

"I  don't  say  they  're  not ;  but  you  're  confounding  in- 
terests with  instincts.  They  have  n't  got  the  instinct  to 
find  this  place,  and  all  that  they  Ve  done  and  are  doing 
is  blind  calculation.  Just  look  at  the  facts.  As  the 
filibuster  who  captured  the  Excelsior  of  course  changed 


158         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

her  name,  her  rig-out,  and  her  flag,  and  even  got  up  a 
false  register  for  her,  she  's  as  good  as  lost,  as  far  as  the 
world  knows,  until  she  lands  at  Quinquinambo.  Then 
supposing  she  's  found  out,  and  the  whole  story  is  known 
—  although  everything's  against  such  a  proposition  — 
the  news  has  got  to  go  back  to  San  Francisco  before  the 
real  search  will  be  begun.  As  to  any  clue  that  might 
come  from  Captain  Bunker,  that's  still  more  remote. 
Allowing  he  crossed  the  bar  and  got  out  of  the  chan- 
nel, he  was  n't  at  the  right  time  for  meeting  a  passing 
steamer ;  and  the  only  coasters  are  Mexican.  If  he 
didn't  die  of  delirium  tremens  or  exposure,  and  was 
really  picked  up  in  his  senses  by  some  other  means,  he 
would  have  been  back  with  succor  before  this,  if  only  to 
get  our  evidence  to  prove  the  loss  of  the  vessel.  No,  sir; 
sooner  or  later,  of  course,  the  San  Francisco  crowd  are 
bound  to  find  us  here.  And  if  it  was  n't  for  my  crops 
and  our  mine,  I  would  n't  be  in  a  hurry  for  them  ;  but  our 
first  hold  is  the  Church." 

He  stopped.  Crosby  was  asleep.  Brace  arose  lazily, 
lounged  into  his  office,  and  closed  his  desk. 

"  Going  to  shut  for  the  day  ?  "  said  Banks,  yawning. 

"  I  reckon,"  said  Brace  dubiously  ;  "  I  don't  know  but 
I'd  take  a  \\tt\tpasear  into  the  town  if  I  had  my  horse 
ready." 

"  Take  mine,  and  I  '11  trapse  over  on  foot  to  the  Ranche 
with  Crosby  —  after  a  spell.  You  '11  find  him  under  that 
big  madrono,  if  he  has  not  already  wound  himself  up  with 
his  lariat  by  walking  round  it.  Those  Mexican  horses 
can't  go  straight  even  when  they  graze  —  they  must  feed 
in  a  circle.  He 's  a  little  fresh,  so  look  out  for  him  !  " 

"  All  the  better.  I  'd  like  to  get  into  town  just  after 
the  siesta." 

"  Siesta  !  "  echoed  Banks,  lying  comfortably  down  in  the 
shade  just  vacated  by  Brace ;  "  that 's  another  of  their 


The  Mourners  at  Todos  Santos.       159 

shiftless  practices.  Two  hours  out  of  every  day  —  that 's 
a  day  out  of  the  week  —  spent  in  a  hammock ;  and  during 
business  hours  too  !  It 's  disgraceful,  sir,  simply  dis- 
graceful." 

He  turned  over  and  closed  his  eyes,  as  if  to  reflect  on 
its  enormity. 

Brace  had  no  difficulty  in  finding  the  mare,  although 
some  trouble  in  mounting  her.  But,  like  his  companions, 
having  quickly  adopted  the  habits  of  the  country,  he  had 
become  a  skillful  and  experienced  horseman,  and  the 
mustang,  after  a  few  springless  jumps,  which  failed  to  un- 
seat him,  submitted  to  his  rider.  The  young  man  gal- 
loped rapidly  towards  Todos  Santos ;  but  when  within  a 
few  miles  of  the  pueblo  he  slackened  his  pace.  From 
the  smiles  and  greetings  of  wayfarers  —  among  whom  were 
some  pretty  Indian  girls  and  mestizas  —  it  was  evident 
that  the  handsome  young  foreigner,  who  had  paid  them 
the  compliment  of  extravagantly  adopting  their  national 
costume,  was  neither  an  unfamiliar  nor  an  unpleasing 
spectacle.  When  he  reached  the  posada  at  the  top  of  the 
hilly  street,  he  even  carried  his  simulation  of  the  local 
customs  to  the  point  of  charging  the  veranda  at  full 
speed,  and  pulling  up  suddenly  at  the  threshold,  after  the 
usual  fashion  of  vaqueros.  The  impetuous  apparition 
brought  a  short  stout  man  to  the  door,  who,  welcoming 
him  with  effusive  politeness,  conducted  him  to  an  inner 
room  that  gave  upon  a  green  grass  courtyard.  Seated 
before  a  rude  table,  sipping  aguardiente,  was  his  country- 
man Winslow  and  two  traders  of  the  pueblo.  They  were 
evidently  of  the  number  already  indicated  who  had 
adopted  the  American  fashions.  Senor  Ruiz  wore  a  linen 
"  duster  "  in  place  of  his  embroidered  jacket,  and  Senor 
Martinez  had  an  American  beard,  or  "goatee,"  in  imita- 
tion of  Mr.  Banks.  The  air  was  yellow  with  the  fumes  of 
tobacco,  through  which  the  shrewd  eyes  of  Winslow 
gleamed  murkily. 


160         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"This,"  he  said  to  his  countryman,  in  fluent  if  not 
elegant  Spanish,  indicating  the  gentleman  who  had  imi- 
tated Banks,  "  is  a  man  of  ideas,  and  a  power  in  Todos 
Santos.  He  would  control  all  the  votes  in  his  district  if 
there  were  anything  like  popular  suffrage  here,  and  he 
understands  the  American  policy." 

Sefior  Martinez  here  hastened  to  inform  Mr.  Brace  that 
he  had  long  cherished  a  secret  and  enthusiastic  ad- 
miration for  that  grand  and  magnanimous  nation  of  which 
his  friend  was  such  a  noble  representative  ;  that,  indeed, 
he  might  say  it  was  an  inherited  taste,  for  had  not  his 
grandfather  once  talked  with  the  American  whaling  Capi- 
tano  Coffino  and  partaken  of  a  subtle  spirit  known  as 
"  er-r-rum  "  on  his  ship  at  Acapulco  ? 

"  There  's  nothing  mean  about  Martinez,"  said  Win- 
slow  to  Brace  confidentially,  in  English.  "  He  's  up  to 
anything,  and  ready  from  the  word  '  Go.'  Don't  you 
think  he 's  a  little  like  Banks,  you  know  —  a  sort  of 
Mexican  edition.  And  there  is  Ruiz,  he 's  a  cattle  dealer; 
he  'd  be  a  good  friend  of  Banks  if  Banks  was  n't  so  in- 
fernally self-opinionated.  But  Ruiz  ain't  a  fool,  either. 
He  's  picked  up  a  little  English  —  good  American,  I 
mean  —  from  me  already." 

Sefior  Ruiz  here  smiled  affably,  to  show  his  compre- 
hension ;  and  added  slowly,  with  great  gravity,  — 

"  It  is  of  twenty-four  year  I  have  first  time  the  Ameri- 
cano of  your  beautiful  country  known.  He  have  buy  the 
hides  and  horns  of  the  cattle  —  for  his  ship  —  here." 

"  Here  ?  "  echoed  Brace.  "  I  thought  no  American 
ship  —  no  ship  at  all  —  had  been  in  here  for  fifty  years." 

Ruiz  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  cast  a  glance  at  his 
friend  Martinez,  lowered  his  voice  and  lifted  his  eye- 
lashes at  the  same  moment,  and,  jerking  his  yellow, 
tobacco-stained  thumb  over  his  arm,  said,  — 

"  Ah  —  of  a  verity  —  on  the  beach  —  two  leagues 
away." 


The  Mourners  at  Todos  Santos.      161 

"  Do  you  hear  that  ? "  said  Winslow,  turning  compla- 
cently to  Brace  and  rising  to  his  feet.  "  Don't  you  see 
now  what  hogwash  the  Commander,  Alcalde,  and  the 
priest  have  been  cramming  down  our  throats  about  this 
place  being  sealed  up  for  fifty  years.  What  he  says  is 
all  Gospel  truth.  That 's  what  I  wanted  you  fellows  to 
hear,  and  you  might  have  heard  before,  only  you  were 
afraid  of  compromising  yourselves  by  talking  with  the 
people.  You  get  it  into  your  heads  —  and  the  Coman- 
dante  helped  you  to  get  it  there  —  that  Todos  Santos 
was  a  sort  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  and  that  no  one  knew  any- 
thing of  the  political  changes  for  the  last  fifty  years. 
Well,  what 's  the  fact  ?  Ask  Ruiz  there,  and  Martinez, 
and  they  '11  both  tell  you  they  know  that  Mexico  got  her 
independence  in  1826,  and  that  the  Council  keep  it  dark 
that  they  may  perpetuate  themselves.  They  know,"  he 
continued,  lowering  his  voice,  "that  the  Commander's 
commission  from  the  old  Viceroy  is  n't  worth  the  paper 
it  is  stamped  upon." 

"  But  what  about  the  Church  ? "  asked  Brace  hesitat- 
ingly, remembering  Banks'  theory. 

"  The  Church  —  caramba !  the  priests  were  ever  with 
the  Escossas,  the  aristocrats,  and  against  the  Yorkenos, 
the  men  of  the  Republic  —  the  people,"  interrupted  Mar- 
tinez vehemently;  "they  will  not  accept,  they  will  not 
proclaim  the  Republic  to  the  people.  They  shut  their 
eyes,  so — .  They  fold  their  hands,  so — .  They  say, 
'  Sicut  era  principio  et  nunc  et  semper  in  secula  seculo- 
rum  ! '  Look  you,  Sefior,  I  am  not  of  the  Church  —  no, 
caramba  !  I  snap  my  fingers  at  the  priests.  Ah !  what 
they  give  one  is  food  for  the  bull's  horns,  believe  me  —  I 
have  read  'Tompano,'  the  American  'Tompano.'" 

"  Who  's  he  ? "  asked  Brace. 

"  He  means  Tom  Paine  !  *  The  Age  of  Reason '  — 
you  know,"  said  Winslow,  gazing  with  a  mixture  of  de- 


1 62         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

light  and  patronizing  pride  at  the  Radicals  of  Todos 
Santos.  "  Oh  !  he  's  no  fool  —  is  Martinez,  nor  Ruiz 
either !  And  while  you  Ve  been  flirting  with  Dona  Isabel, 
and  Banks  has  been  trying  to  log-roll  the  Padre,  and 
Crosby  going  in  for  siestas,  /  've  found  them  out.  And 
there  are  a  few  more  —  are  n't  there,  Ruiz  ?  " 

Ruiz  darted  a  mysterious  glance  at  Brace,  and  appar- 
ently not  trusting  himself  to  speak,  checked  off  his  ten 
fingers  dramatically  in  the  air  thrice. 

"  As  many  of  a  surety  !     God  and  liberty  !  " 

"  But,  if  this  is  so,  why  have  n't  they  done  something  ? " 

Senor  Martinez  glanced  at  Senor  Ruiz. 

"  Hasta  manana  !  "  he  said  slowly. 

"  Oh,  this  is  a  case  of  *  Hasta  manana  ! ' "  said  Brace, 
somewhat  relieved. 

"  They  can  wait,"  returned  Winslow  hurriedly.  "  It 's 
too  big  a  thing  to  rush  into  without  looking  round.  You 
know  what  it  means  ?  Either  Todos  Santos  is  in  rebellion 
against  the  present  Government  of  Mexico,  or  she  is  in- 
dependent of  any.  Her  present  Government,  in  any 
event,  don't  represent  either  the  Republic  of  Mexico  or 
the  people  of  Todos  Santos  —  don't  you  see  ?  And  in 
that  case  we  Ve  got  as  good  a  right  here  as  any  one." 

"  He  speaks  the  truth,"  said  Ruiz,  grasping  a  hand  of 
Brace  and  Winslow  each ;  "  in  this  we  are  —  as  broth- 
ers." 

"  God  and  liberty  !  "  ejaculated  Martinez,  in  turn  seiz- 
ing the  other  disengaged  hands  of  the  Americans,  and 
completing  the  mystic  circle. 

"  God  and  liberty !  "  echoed  a  thin  chorus  from  their 
host  and  a  few  loungers  who  had  entered  unperceived. 

Brace  felt  uneasy.  He  was  not  wanting  in  the  courage 
or  daring  of  youth,  but  it  struck  him  that  his  attitude  was 
by  no  means  consistent  with  his  attentions  to  Dona  Isa- 
bel. He  managed  to  get  Winslow  aside. 


The  Mourners  at  Todos  Santos.      163 

"  This  is  all  very  well  as  a  '  free  lunch '  conspiracy  ; 
but  you  're  forgetting  your  parole,"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  We  gave  our  parole  to  the  present  Government. 
When  it  no  longer  exists,  there  will  be  no  parole  —  don't 
you  see  ?  " 

"  Then  these  fellows  prefer  waiting  "  — 

"  Until  we  can  get  outside  help,  you  understand.  The 
first  American  ship  that  comes  in  here  —  eh  ? " 

Brace  felt  relieved.  After  all,  his  position  in  regard  to 
the  Alcalde's  sister  would  not  be  compromised ;  he  might 
even  be  able  to  extend  some  protection  over  her  ;  and  it 
would  be  a  magnanimous  revenge  if  he  could  even  offer 
it  to  Miss  Keene. 

"  I  see  you  don't  swear  anybody  to  secrecy,"  he  said, 
with  a  laugh  ;  "  shall  I  speak  to  Crosby,  or  will  you  ?  " 

"  Not  yet ;  he  '11  only  see  something  to  laugh  at.  And 
Banks  and  Martinez  would  quarrel  at  once,  and  go  back 
on  each  other.  No ;  my  idea  is  to  let  some  outsider  do 
for  Todos  Santos  what  Perkins  did  for  Quinquinambo. 
Do  you  take  ? " 

His  long,  thin,  dyspeptic  face  lit  up  with  a  certain 
small  political  cunning  and  shrewdness  that  struck  Brace 
with  a  half-respect. 

"  I  say,  Winslow ;  you  'd  have  made  a  first-class  caucus 
leader  in  San  Francisco." 

Winslow  smiled  complacently.  "  There 's  something 
better  to  play  on  here  than  ward  politics,"  he  replied. 
"There's  a  material  here  that — like  the  mine  and  the 
soil  —  ain't  half  developed.  I  reckon  I  can  show  Banks 
something  that  beats  lobbying  and  log-rolling  for  con- 
tracts. I  've  let  you  into  this  thing  to  show  you  a  sample 
of  my  prospecting.  Keep  it  to  yourself  if  you  want  it  to 
pay.  Dat  's  me,  George !  Good-by  !  I  '11  be  out  to  the 
office  to-morrow  ! " 

He  turned  back  towards  his  brother  politicians  with  an 


164         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

expression  of  satisfied  conceit  that  Brace  for  a  moment 
envied.  The  latter  even  lingered  on  the  veranda,  as  if 
he  would  have  asked  Winslow  another  question  ;  but, 
looking  at  his  watch,  he  suddenly  recollected  himself, 
and,  mounting  his  horse,  cantered  down  towards  the 
plaza. 

The  hour  of  siesta  was  not  yet  over,  and  the  streets 
were  still  deserted  —  probably  the  reason  why  the  poli- 
ticians of  Todos  Santos  had  chosen  that  hour  for  their 
half  secret  meeting.  At  the  corner  of  the  plaza  he  dis- 
mounted and  led  his  horse  to  the  public  hitching-post 
— gnawn  and  nibbled  by  the  teeth  of  generations  of 
mustangs  —  and  turned  into  the  narrow  lane  flanked  by 
the  walls  of  the  Alcalde's  garden.  Halfway  down  he 
stopped  before  a  slight  breach  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
adobe  barrier,  and  looked  cautiously  around.  The  long, 
shadowed  vista  of  the  lane  was  unobstructed  by  any  mov- 
ing figure  as  far  as  the  yellow  light  of  the  empty  square 
beyond.  With  a  quick  leap  he  gained  the  top  of  the  wall 
and  disappeared  on  the  other  side. 


CHAPTER  III. 

INTERNATIONAL   COURTESIES. 

THE  garden  over  whose  wall  Brace  had  mysteriously 
vanished  was  apparently  as  deserted  as  the  lane  and 
plaza  without.  But  its  solitude  was  one  of  graceful 
shadow  and  restful  loveliness.  A  tropical  luxuriance, 
that  had  perpetuated  itself  year  after  year,  until  it  was 
half  suffocated  in  its  own  overgrowth  and  strangled  with 
its  own  beauty,  spread  over  a  variegated  expanse  of 
starry  flowers,  shimmering  leaves,  and  slender  inextrica- 
ble branches,  pierced  here  and  there  by  towering  rigid 
cactus  spikes  or  the  curved  plumes  of  palms.  The  re- 
pose of  ages  lay  in  its  hushed  groves,  its  drooping  vines, 
its  lifeless  creepers  ;  the  dry  dust  of  its  decaying  leaves 
and  branches  mingled  with  the  living  perfumes  like  the 
spiced  embalmings  of  a  forgotten  past. 

Nevertheless,  this  tranquillity,  after  a  few  moments, 
was  singularly  disturbed.  There  was  no  breeze  stirring, 
and  yet  the  long  fronds  of  a  large  fan  palm,  that  stood 
near  the  breach  in  the  wall,  began  to  move  gently  from 
right  to  left,  like  the  arms  of  some  graceful  semaphore, 
and  then  as  suddenly  stopped.  Almost  at  the  same  mo- 
ment a  white  curtain,  listlessly  hanging  from  a  canopied 
balcony  of  the  Alcalde's  house,  began  to  exhibit  a  like 
rhythmical  and  regular  agitation.  Then  everything  was 
motionless  again  ;  an  interval  of  perfect  peace  settled 
upon  the  garden.  It  was  broken  by  the  apparition  of 
Brace  under  the  balcony,  and  the  black-veiled  and  flow- 
ered head  of  Dona  Isabel  from  the  curtain  above. 


1 66         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Crazy  boy  !  " 

"  Senorita  ! " 

"  Hush  !    I  am  coming  down  !  " 

"  You  ?     But  Dona  Ursula  !  " 

"  There  is  no  more  Dona  Ursula  !  " 

"  Well  —  your  duenna,  whoever  she  is  !  " 

"  There  is  no  duenna  !  " 

"  What  ? " 

"  Hush  up  your  tongue,  idiot  boy  ! "  (this  in  English.) 

The  little  black  head  and  the  rose  on  top  of  it  disap- 
peared. Brace  drew  himself  up  against  the  wall  and 
waited.  The  time  seemed  interminable.  Impatiently 
looking  up  and  down,  he  at  last  saw  Dona  Isabel  at  a 
distance,  quietly  and  unconcernedly  moving  among  the 
roses,  and  occasionally  stooping  as  if  to  pick  them.  In 
an  instant  he  was  at  her  side. 

"  Let  me  help  you,"  he  said. 

She  opened  her  little  brownish  palm,  — 

"  Look ! "  In  her  hand  were  a  few  leaves  of  some 
herb.  "  It  is  for  you." 

Brace  seized  and  kissed  the  hand. 

"  Is  it  some  love-test  ? " 

"  It  is  for  what  you  call  a  julep-cocktail,"  she  replied 
gravely.  "  He  will  remain  in  a  glass  with  aguardiente ; 
you  shall  drink  him  with  a  straw.  My  sister  has  said 
that  ever  where  the  Americans  go  they  expect  him  to  ar- 
rive." 

"  I  prefer  to  take  him  straight,"  said  Brace,  laughing, 
as  he  nibbled  a  limp  leaf  bruised  by  the  hand  of  the 
young  girl.  "  He  's  pleasanter,  and,  on  the  whole,  more 
wildly  intoxicating  this  way !  But  what  about  your 
duenna?  and  how  comes  this  blessed  privilege  of  seeing 
you  alone  ? " 

Dona  Isabel  lifted  her  black  eyes  suddenly  to  Brace. 

"  You  do  not  comprehend,  then  ?     Is  it  not,  then,  the 


International  Courtesies.  167 

custom  of  the  Americans  ?  Is  it  not,  then,  that  there  is 
no  duenna  in  your  country  ?  " 

"  There  are  certainly  no  duennas  in  my  country.  But 
who  has  changed  the  custom  here  ?  " 

"  Is  it  not  true  that  in  your  country  any  married  woman 

shall  duenna  the  young  senorita?"  continued  Dona  Isabel, 

without  replying  ;  "  that  any  caballero  and  senorita  shall 

see  each  other  in  the  patio,  and  not  under  a  balcony  ?  — 

'that  they  may  speak  with  the  lips,  and  not  the  fan  ?" 

"Well  — yes,"  said  Brace. 

"Then  my  brother  has  arranged  it  as  so.  He  have 
much  hear  the  Dona  Barbara  Brimmer  when  she  make 
talk  of  these  things  frequently,  and  he  is  informed  and 
impressed  much.  He  will  truly  have  that  you  will  come 
of  the  corridor,  and  not  the  garden,  for  me,  and  that  I 
shall  have  no  duenna  but  the  Dona  Barbara.  This  does 
not  make  you  happy,  you  American  idiot  boy !  " 

It  did  not.  The  thought  of  carrying  on  a  flirtation  un- 
der the  fastidious  Boston  eye  of  Mrs.  Brimmer,  instead  of 
under  the  discreet  and  mercenarily  averted  orbs  of  Dona 
Ursula,  did  not  commend  itself  pleasantly  to  Brace. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  returned  quickly.  "  We  will  go  into  the 
corridor,  in  the  fashion  of  my  country  "  — 

"  Yes,"  said  Dona  Isabel  dubiously. 

"  After  we  have  walked  in  the  garden  in  the  fashion  of 
yours.  That 's  only  fair,  is  n't  it  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Dona  Isabel  gravely;  "that's  what  the 
Comandante  will  call  '  internation-al  courtesy.'  " 

The  young  man  slipped  his  arm  around  the  young  di- 
plomatist's waist,  and  they  walked  on  in  decorous  silence 
under  the  orange-trees. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  said  Brace  presently,  "that  Mrs. 
Brimmer  has  a  good  deal  to  say  up  your  way  ?  " 

"  Ah,  yes ;  but  what  will  you  ?  It  is  my  brother  who 
has  love  for  her." 


1 68         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"But,"  said  Brace,  stopping  suddenly,  "does  n't  he 
know  that  she  has  a  husband  living  ?  " 

Dona  Isabel  lifted  her  lashes  in  childlike  wonder. 

"  Always  !  you  idiot  American  boy.  That  is  why.  Ah, 
Mother  of  God  !  my  brother  is  discreet.  He  is  not  a 
maniac,  like  you,  to  come  after  a  silly  muchacha  like  me." 

The  response  which  Brace  saw  fit  to  make  to  this  state- 
ment elicited  a  sharp  tap  upon  the  knuckles  from  Dona 
Isabel. 

"  Tell  to  me,"  she  said  suddenly,  "  is  not  that  a  custom 
of  your  country  ?  " 

"What?     Thatt" 

"  No,  insensate.     To  attend  a  married  senora  ?  " 

"Not  openly." 

"Ah,  that  is  wrong,"  said  Dona  Isabel  meditatively, 
moving  the  point  of  her  tiny  slipper  on  the  gravel.  "  Then 
it  is  the  young  girl  that  shall  come  in  the  corridor  and  the 
married  lady  on  the  balcony  ?  " 

"Well,  yes." 

"  Good-by,  ape  !  " 

She  ran  swiftly  down  the  avenue  of  palms  to  a  small 
door  at  the  back  of  the  house,  turned,  blew  a  kiss  over 
the  edge  of  her  fan  to  Brace,  and  disappeared.  He  hesi- 
tated a  moment  or  two,  then  quickly  rescaling  the  wall, 
dropped  into  the  lane  outside,  followed  it  to  the  gateway 
of  the  casa,  and  entered  the  patio  as  Dona  Isabel  de- 
corously advanced  from  a  darkened  passage  to  the  cor- 
ridor. Although  the  hour  of  siesta  had  passed,  her  sister, 
Miss  Chubb,  the  Alcalde,  and  Mrs.  Brimmer  were  still 
lounging  here  on  sofas  and  hammocks. 

It  would  have  been  difficult  for  a  stranger  at  a  first 
glance  to  discover  the  nationality  of  the  ladies.  Mrs. 
Brimmer  and  her  friend  Miss  Chubb  had  entirely  suc- 
cumbed to  the  extreme  dishabille  of  the  Spanish  toilet 
—  not  without  a  certain  languid  grace  on  the  part  of  Mrs. 


International  Courtesies.  169 

Brimmer,  whose  easy  contour  lent  itself  to  the  stayiess 
bodice  ;  or  a  certain  bashful,  youthful  naivete  on  the  part 

4B[  p^flss  \_rBmppL  iii^  roniPoPo  ^gffTyFT^y  ^Vuudicss  ot  ^BTIOSC 
neck  and  shoulders  half  pleased  and  half  frightened  her 

ffl  PfT"  JOVT'  ^PjUtCU  TMSIT^  C2U1US3-  ^ •••*  QOuCT  to€  XACC  DB2IDDU2« 

"It  is  ivoi  a  pleasure  to  see  yon  again,  Mr.  Brace," 
said  Mrs.  Brimmer,  languidly  observing  the 
through  the  sticks  of  her  fan;  **  I  was  telling  Don 
that  I  feared  Dona  Ursula  had  frightened  you  away.  I 
told  him  tlmt  your  experience  of  An¥**ira"  society  might 
have  caused  yon  to  misinterpret  the  habitual  reserve  of  the 
CasdHan,™  sh^  continued  with  the  an-  of  being  already  an 
alien  of  her  own  country,  "and  I  should  be  only  too  hap- 
py to  undertake  the  chaperoning  of  both  these  yoimg 
M*Kf3  i"  their  ^oc«al  "*M(V"»%  ^rth  nnr  ffrignds.  And  how 
is  dear  Mr.  Banks?  and  Mr.  Crosby  ?  whom  I  so  seldom 
see  now.  I  suppose,  however, 


But  Don  Ramon,  with  impulsive  gallantry,  would  not 
— nay,  amid  not — for  a  moment  tolerate  a  heresy  so 
alarming.  It  was  simply  wfldry  impossible.  For  why  ? 
In  the  presence  of  Dona  Barbara — it  exists  not  in  die 
he.ir:  •::'  miz.  '. 

"Ye*  cannot,  of  course,  conceive  it,  Don  Ramon,**  said 
Mis.  Brimmer,  with  an  air  of  gentle  sintering;  "but  I 
fear  it  is  sadly  true  of  the  American  gentlemen-  They 
become  too  absorbed  in  their  business.  They  forget  then- 
duty  to  our  sex  in  their  srifish  devotion  to  affair  in 
which  we  are  debarred  from  joining  them,  and  yet  they 
wonder  that  we  prefer  the  society  of  men  who  are  re- 
moved by  birth,  tradition,  and  position  from  this  degrad- 
ing kind  of  selfishness." 

"  But  that  was  scarcely  true  of  your  own  husband.     He 

see  that  he  was  equally  successful  in  his  irbtinm  to 


1 70         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

least  one  of  the  fastidious  sex,"  said  Brace,  maliciously 
glancing  at  Don  Ramon. 

Mrs.  Brimmer  received  the  innuendo  with  invulnerable 
simplicity. 

"  Mr.  Brimmer  is,  I  am  happy  to  say,  not  a  business 
man.  He  entered  into  certain  contracts  having  more  or 
less  of  a  political  complexion,  and  carrying  with  them  the 
genius  but  not  the  material  results  of  trade.  That  he  is 
not  a  business  man  —  and  a  successful  one  —  my  posi- 
tion here  at  the  present  time  is  a  sufficient  proof,"  she 
said  triumphantly.  "  And  I  must  also  protest,"  she  added, 
with  a  faint  sigh,  "  against  Mr.  Brimmer  being  spoken  of 
in  the  past  tense  by  anybody.  It  is  painfully  premature 
and  ominous  !  " 

She  drew  her  mantilla  across  her  shoulders  with  an  ex- 
pression of  shocked  sensitiveness  which  completed  the 
humiliation  of  Brace  and  the  subjugation  of  Don  Ramon. 
But,  unlike  most  of  her  sex,  she  was  wise  in  the  moment 
of  victory.  She  cast  a  glance  over  her  fan  at  Brace,  and 
turned  languidly  to  Dona  Isabel. 

"  Mr.  Brace  must  surely  want  some  refreshment  after 
his  long  ride.  Why  don't  you  seize  this  opportunity  to 
show  him  the  garden  and  let  him  select  for  himself  the 
herbs  he  requires  for  that  dreadful  American  drink  ;  Miss 
Chubb  and  your  sister  will  remain  with  me  to  receive 
the  Comandante's.  secretary  and  the  Doctor  when  they 
come." 

"  She 's  more  than  my  match,"  whispered  Brace  to 
Dona  Isabel,  as  they  left  the  corridor  together.  "  I  give 
in.  I  don't  understand  her  :  she  frightens  me." 

"  That  is  of  your  conscience  !     It  is  that  you  would  un- 
derstand t^he  Dona  Leonor  —  your  dear  Miss  Keene  — 
better !     Ah  !  silence,  imbecile  !  this    Dona   Barbara   is 
even  as  thou  art  —  a  talking  parrot.     She  will  have  that 
the  Comandante's  secretary,  Manuel,  shall  marry  Mees 


International  Courtesies.  171 

Chubb,  and  that  the  Doctor  shall  marry  my  sister.  But  she 
knows  not  that  Manuel  —  listen  so  that  you  shall  get  sick 
at  your  heart  and  swallow  your  moustachio  !  —  that  Manuel 
loves  the  beautiful  Leonor,  and  that  Leonor  loves  not 
him,  but  Don  Diego ;  and  that  my  sister  loathes  the  little 
Doctor.  And  this  Dona  Barbara,  that  makes  your  liver 
white,  would  be  a  feeder  of  chickens  with  such  barley  as 
this  !  Ah  !  come  along !  " 

The  arrival  of  the  Doctor  and  the  Comandante's  sec- 
retary created  another  diversion,  and  the  pairing  off  of 
the  two  couples  indicated  by  Dona  Isabel  for  a  stroll 
in  the  garden,  which  was  now  beginning  to  recover  from 
the  still  heat  of  mid-day.  This  left  Don  Ramon  and 
Mrs.  Brimmer  alone  in  the  corridor ;  Mrs.  Brimmer's  in- 
definite languor,  generally  accepted  as  some  vague  aris- 
tocratic condition  of  mind  and  body,  not  permitting  her 
to  join  them. 

There  was  a  moment  of  dangerous  silence  ;  the  voices 
of  the  young  people  were  growing  fainter  in  the  distance. 
Mrs.  Brimmer's  eyes,  in  the  shadow  of  her  fan,  were  be- 
coming faintly  phosphorescent.  Don  Ramon's  melan- 
choly face,  which  had  grown  graver  in  the  last  few  mo- 
ments, approached  nearer  to  her  own. 

"  You  are  unhappy,  Dona  Barbara.  The  coming  of  this 
young  cavalier,  your  countryman,  revives  your  anxiety 
for  your  home.  You  are  thinking  of  this  husband  who 
comes  not.  Is  it  not  so  ?  " 

"  I  am  thinking,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer,  with  a  sudden 
revulsion  of  solid  Boston  middle-class  propriety,  shown 
as  much  in  the  dry  New  England  asperity  of  voice  that 
stung  even  through  her  drawling  of  the  Castilian  speech, 
as  in  anything  she  said,  —  "I  am  thinking  that,  unless 
Mr.  Brimmer  comes  soon,  I  and  Miss  Chubb  shall  have 
to  abandon  the  hospitality  of  your  house,  Don  Ramon. 
Without  looking  upon  myself  as  a  widow,  or  as  indefi- 


172         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

nitely  separated  from  Mr.  Brimmer,  the  few  words  let  fall 
by  Mr.  Brace  show  me  what  might  be  the  feelings  of  my 
countrymen  on  the  subject.  However  charming  and  con- 
siderate your  hospitality  has  been  —  and  I  do  not  deny 
that  it  has  been  most  grateful  to  me  —  I  feel  I  cannot  con- 
tinue to  accept  it  in  those  equivocal  circumstances.  I 
am  speaking  to  a  gentleman  who,  with  the  instincts  and 
chivalrous  obligations  of  his  order,  must  sympathize  with 
my  own  delicacy  in  coming  to  this  conclusion,  and  who 
will  not  take  advantage  of  my  confession  that  I  do  it  with 
pain." 

She  spoke  with  a  dry  alacrity  and  precision  so  unlike 
her  usual  languor  and  the  suggestions  of  the  costume, 
and  even  the  fan  she  still  kept  shading  her  faintly  glow- 
ing eyes,  that  the  man  before  her  was  more  troubled  by 
her  manner  than  her  words,  which  he  had  but  imperfectly 
understood. 

"  You  will  leave  here  —  this  house  ? "  he  stammered. 

"  It  is  necessary,"  she  returned. 

"  But  you  shall  listen  to  me  first ! "  he  said  hurriedly. 
"  Hear  me,  Dona  Barbara  —  I  have  a  secret  —  I  will  to 
you  confess  "  — 

"You  must  confess  nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer,  drop- 
ping her  feet  from  the  hammock,  and  sitting  up  primly, 
"I  mean  —  nothing  I  may  not  hear." 

The  Alcalde  cast  a  look  upon  her  at  once  blank  and 
imploring. 

"  Ah,  but  you  will  hear,"  he  said,  after  a  pause.  "  There 
is  a  ship  coming  here.  In  two  weeks  she  will  arrive. 
None  know  it  but  myself,  the  Comandante,  and  the 
Padre.  It  is  a  secret  of  the  Government.  She  will  come 
at  night ;  she  will  depart  in  the  morning,  and  no  one  else 
shall  know.  It  has  ever  been  that  she  brings  no  one  to 
Todos  Santos,  that  she  takes  no  one  from  Todos  Santos. 
That  is  the  law.  But  I  swear  to  you  that  she  shall  take 


International  Courtesies.  173 

you,  your  children,  and  your  friend  to  Acapulco  in  secret, 
where  you  will  be  free.  You  will  join  your  husband ; 
you  will  be  happy.  I  will  remain,  and  I  will  die." 

It  would  have  been  impossible  for  any  woman  but  Mrs. 
Brimmer  to  have  regarded  the  childlike  earnestness  and 
melancholy  simplicity  of  this  grown-up  man  without  a 
pang.  Even  this  superior  woman  experienced  a  sensible 
awkwardness  as  she  slipped  from  the  hammock  and  re- 
gained an  upright  position. 

"Of  course,"  she  began,  "your  offer  is  exceedingly 
generous  ;  and  although  I  should  not,  perhaps,  take  a 
step  of  this  kind  without  the  sanction  of  Mr.  Brimmer, 
and  am  not  sure  that  he  would  not  regard  it  as  rash  and 
premature,  I  will  talk  it  over  with  Miss  Chubb,  for  whom 
I  am  partially  responsible.  Nothing,"  she  continued, 
with  a  sudden  access  of  feeling,  "  would  induce  me,  for 
any  selfish  consideration,  to  take  any  step  that  would  im- 
peril the  future  of  that  child,  towards  whom  I  feel  as  a 
sister."  A  slight  suffusion  glistened  under  her  pretty 
brown  lashes.  "If  anything  should  happen  to  her,  I 
would  never  forgive  myself;  if  I  should  be  the  unfortu- 
nate means  of  severing  any  ties  that  she  may  have  formed, 
I  could  never  look  her  in  the  face  again.  Of  course,  I 
can  well  understand  that  our  presence  here  must  be  oner- 
ous to  you,  and  that  you  naturally  look  forward  to  any 
sacrifice  —  even  that  of  the  interests  of  your  country,  and 
the  defiance  of  its  laws  —  to  relieve  you  from  a  position 
so  embarrassing  as  yours  has  become.  I  only  trust,  how- 
ever, that  the  ill  effects  you  allude  to  as  likely  to  occur  to 
yourself  after  our  departure  may  be  exaggerated  by  your 
sensitive  nature.  It  would  be  an  obligation  added  to  the 
many  that  we  owe  you,  which  Mr.  Brimmer  would  natu- 
rally find  he  could  not  return  —  and  that,  I  can  safely  say, 
he  would  not  hear  of  for  a  single  moment." 

While  speaking,  she  had  unconsciously  laid  aside  her 


1 74         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

fan,  lifted  her  mantilla  from  her  head  with  both  hands,, 
and,  drawing  it  around  her  shoulders  and  under  her  lifted 
chin,  had  crossed  it  over  her  bosom  with  a  certain  prim, 
automatic  gesture,  as  if  it  had  been  the  starched  kerchief 
of  some  remote  Puritan  ancestress.  With  her  arms  still 
unconsciously  crossed,  she  stooped  rigidly,  picked  up  her 
fan  with  three  ringers,  as  if  it  had  been  a  prayer-book, 
and,  with  a  slight  inclination  of  her  bared  head,  with  its 
accurately  parted  brown  hair,  passed  slowly  out  of  the 
corridor. 

Astounded,  bewildered,  yet  conscious  of  some  vague 
wound,  Don  Ramon  remained  motionless,  staring  after 
her  straight,  retreating  figure.  Unable  to  follow  closely 
either  the  meaning  of  her  words  or  the  logic  of  her  rea- 
soning, he  nevertheless  comprehended  the  sudden  change 
in  her  manner,  her  voice,  and  the  frigid  resurrection  of  a 
nature  he  had  neither  known  nor  suspected.  He  looked 
blankly  at  the  collapsed  hammock,  as  if  he  expected  to 
find  in  its  depths  those  sinuous  graces,  languid  fascina- 
tions, and  the  soft,  half  sensuous  contour  cast  off  by  this 
vanishing  figure  of  propriety. 

In  the  eight  months  of  their  enforced  intimacy  and 
platonic  seclusion  he  had  learned  to  love  this  naive,  in- 
sinuating woman,  whose  frank  simplicity  seemed  equal 
to  his  own,  without  thought  of  reserve,  secrecy,  or  deceit. 
He  had  gradually  been  led  to  think  of  the  absent  hus- 
band with  what  he  believed  to  be  her  own  feelings  —  as 
of  some  impalpable,  fleshless  ancestor  from  whose  remote 
presence  she  derived  power,  wealth,  and  importance,  but 
to  whom  she  owed  only  respect  and  certain  obligations 
of  honor  equal  to  his  own.  He  had  never  heard  her 
speak  of  her  husband  with  love,  with  sympathy,  with  fel- 
lowship, with  regret.  She  had  barely  spoken  of  him  at 
all,  and  then  rather  as  an  attractive  factor  in  her  own 
fascinations  than  a  bar  to  a  free  indulgence  in  them. 


"  With  a  slight  inclination  of  her  bared  head,  she  passed  slowly  out  of  the  cor- 
ridor." —  Page  174. 


International  Courtesies.  175 

He  was  as  little  in  her  way  as  —  his  children.  With  what 
grace  she  had  adapted  herself  to  his  —  Don  Ramon's  — 
life  — she  who  frankly  confessed  she  had  no  sympathy 
with  her  husband's  !  With  what  languid  enthusiasm  she 
had  taken  up  the  customs  of  his  country,  while  deploring 
the  habits  of  her  own  !  With  what  goddess-like  indiffer- 
ence she  had  borne  this  interval  of  waiting !  And  yet 
this  woman  —  who  had  seemed  the  embodiment  of  ro- 
mance —  had  received  the  announcement  of  his  sacrifice 
—  the  only  revelation  he  allowed  himself  to  make  of  his 
hopeless  passion  —  with  the  frigidity  of  a  duenna  !  Had 
he  wounded  her  in  some  other  unknown  way  ?  Was  she 
mortified  that  he  had  not  first  declared  his  passion  —  he 
who  had  never  dared  to  speak  to  her  of  love  before? 
Perhaps  she  even  doubted  it !  In  his  ignorance  of  the 
world  he  had,  perhaps,  committed  some  grave  offense ! 
He  should  not  have  let  her  go  !  He  should  have  ques- 
tioned, implored  her  —  thrown  himself  at  her  feet !  Was 
it  too  late  yet? 

He  passed  hurriedly  into  the  formal  little  drawing- 
room,  whose  bizarre  coloring  was  still  darkened  by  the 
closed  blinds  and  dropped  awnings  that  had  shut  out 
the  heat  of  day.  She  was  not  there.  He  passed  the 
open  door  of  her  room  •  it  was  empty.  At  the  end  of 
the  passage  a  faint  light  stole  from  a  door  opening  into 
the  garden  that  was  still  ajar.  She  must  have  passed  out 
that  way.  He  opened  it,  and  stepped  out  into  the  garden. 

The  sound  of  voices  beside  a  ruined  fountain  a  hun- 
dred yards  away  indicated  the  vicinity  of  the  party ;  but 
a  single  glance  showed  him  that  she  was  not  among 
them.  So  much  the  better  —  he  would  find  her  alone. 
Cautiously  slipping  beside  the  wall  of  the  house,  under 
the  shadow  of  a  creeper,  he  gained  the  long  avenue  with- 
out attracting  attention.  She  was  not  there.  Had  she 
effectively  evaded  contact  with  the  others  by  leaving  the 


176         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

garden  through  the  little  gate  in  the  wall  that  entered 
the  Mission  enclosure  ?  It  was  partly  open,  as  if  some 
one  had  just  passed  through.  He  followed,  took  a  few 
steps,  and  stopped  abruptly.  In  the  shadow  of  one  of 
the  old  pear-trees  a  man  and  woman  were  standing.  An 
impulse  of  wild  jealousy  seized  him  ;  he  was  about  to 
leap  forward,  but  the  next  moment  the  measured  voice 
of  the  Comandante,  addressing  Mrs.  Markham,  fell  upon 
his  ear.  He  drew  back  with  a  sudden  flush  upon  his 
face.  The  Comandante  of  Todos  Santos,  in  grave,  ear- 
nest accents,  was  actually  offering  to  Mrs.  Markham  the 
same  proposal  that  he,  Don  Ramon,  had  made  to  Mrs. 
Brimmer  but  a  moment  ago  ! 

"  No  one,"  said  the  Comandante  sententiously,  "  will 
know  it  but  myself.  You  will  leave  the  ship  at  Acapulco  ; 
you  will  rejoin  your  husband  in  good  time  ;  you  will  be 
happy,  my  child ;  you  will  forget  the  old  man  who  drags 
out  the  few  years  of  loneliness  still  left  to  him  in  Todos 
Santos." 

Forgetting  himself,  Don  Ramon  leaned  breathlessly 
forward  to  hear  Mrs.  Markham's  reply.  Would  she  an- 
swer the  Comandante  as  Dona  Barbara  had  answered 
him  ?  Her  words  rose  distinctly  in  the  evening  air. 

"  You  're  a  gentleman,  Don  Miguel  Briones  ;  and  the 
least  respect  I  can  show  a  man  of  your  kind  is  not  to 
pretend  that  I  don't  understand  the  sacrifice  you  're 
making.  I  shall  always  remember  it  as  about  the  big- 
gest compliment  I  ever  received,  and  the  biggest  risk 
that  any  man  —  except  one  —  ever  ran  for  me.  But  as 
the  man  who  ran  that  bigger  risk  is  n't  here  to  speak  for 
himself,  and  generally  trusts  his  wife,  Susan  Markham, 
to  speak  for  him  —  it 's  all  the  same  as  if  he  thanked 
you.  There  's  my  hand,  Don  Miguel :  shake  it.  Well  — 
if  you  prefer  it  —  kiss  it  then.  There  —  don't  be  a  fool 
—  but  let 's  go  back  to  Miss  Keene." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

A   GLEAM   OF   SUNSHINE. 

WHILE  these  various  passions  had  been  kindled  by 
her  compatriots  in  the  peaceful  ashes  of  Todos  Santos, 
Eleanor  Keene  had  moved  among  them  indifferently  and, 
at  times,  unconsciously.  The  stranding  of  her  young  life 
on  that  unknown  shore  had  not  drawn  her  towards  her 
fellow-exiles,  and  the  circumstances  which  afterwards 
separated  her  from  daily  contact  with  them  completed 
the  social  estrangement.  She  found  herself  more  in  sym- 
pathy with  the  natives,  to  whom  she  had  shown  no  famil- 
iarity, than  with  her  own  people,  who  had  mixed  with 
them  'more  or  less  contemptuously.  She  found  the  na- 
ivete of  Dona  Isabel  more  amusing  than  the  doubtful 
simplicity  of  that  married  ingenue  Mrs.  Brimmer,  al- 
though she  still  met  the  young  girl's  advances  with  a 
certain  reserve.  She  found  herself  often  pained  by  the 
practical  brusqueness  with  which  Mrs.  Markham  put 
aside  the  Comandante's  delicate  attentions,  and  she  was 
moved  with  a  strange  pity  for  his  childlike  trustfulness, 
which  she  knew  was  hopeless.  As  the  months  passed, 
on  the  few  occasions  that  she  still  met  the  Excelsior's 
passengers  she  was  surprised  to  find  how  they  had  faded 
from  her  memory,  and  to  discover  in  them  the  existence 
of  qualities  that  made  her  wonder  how  she  could  have 
ever  been  familiar  with  them.  She  reproached  herself 
with  this  fickleness ;  she  wondered  if  she  would  have  felt 
thus  if  they  had  completed  their  voyage  to  San  Francisco 
together ;  and  she  recalled,  with  a  sad  smile,  the  enthu- 


178         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

siastic  plans  they  had  formed  during  the  passage  to 
perpetuate  their  fellowship  by  anniversaries  and  festivals. 
But  she,  at  last,  succumbed,  and  finally  accepted  their 
open  alienation  as  preferable  to  the  growing  awkward- 
ness of  their  chance  encounters. 

For  a  few  weeks  following  the  flight  of  Captain  Bunker 
and  her  acceptance  of  the  hospitality  and  protection  of 
the  Council,  she  became  despondent.  The  courage  that 
had  sustained  her,  and  the  energy  she  had  shown  in  the 
first  days  of  their  abandonment,  suddenly  gave  way,  for 
no  apparent  reason.  She  bitterly  regretted  the  brother 
whom  she  scarcely  remembered ;  she  imagined  his  sus- 
pense and  anguish  on  her  account,  and  suffered  for  both ; 
she  felt  the  dumb  pain  of  homesickness  for  a  home  she 
had  never  known.  Her  loneliness  became  intolerable. 
Her  condition  at  last  affected  Mrs.  Markham,  whose  own 
idleness  had  been  beguiled  by  writing  to  her  husband 
an  exhaustive  account  of  her  captivity,  which  had  finally 
swelled  to  a  volume  on  Todos  Santos,  its  resources,  in- 
habitants, and  customs.  "  Good  heavens  !  "  she  said, 
"  you  must  do  something,  child,  to  occupy  your  mind  — 
if  it  is  only  a  flirtation  with  that  conceited  Secretary." 
But  this  terrible  alternative  was  happily  not  required. 
The  Comandante  had  still  retained  as  part  of  the  old 
patriarchal  government  of  the  Mission  the  Presidio 
school,  for  the  primary  instruction  of  the  children  of 
the  soldiers,  —  dependants  of  the  garrison.  Miss  Keene, 
fascinated  by  several  little  pairs  of  beady  black  eyes  that 
had  looked  up  trustingly  to  hers  from  the  playground  on 
the  glacis,  offered  to  teach  English  to  the  Comandante's 
flock.  The  offer  was  submitted  to  the  spiritual  head  of 
Todos  Santos,  and  full  permission  given  by  Padre  Este- 
ban  to  the  fair  heretic.  Singing  was  added  to  the  in- 
struction, and  in  a  few  months  the  fame  of  the  gracious 
Dona  Leonor's  pupils  stirred  to  emulation  even  the  boy 
choristers  of  the  Mission. 


A  Gleam  of  Sunshine.  1 79 

Her  relations  with  James  Hurlstone  during  this  in- 
terval were  at  first  marked  by  a  strange  and  unreason- 
ing reserve.  Whether  she  resented  the  singular  coalition 
forced  upon  them  by  the  Council  and  felt  the  awkward- 
ness of  their  unintentional  imposture  when  they  met,  she 
did  not  know,  but  she  generally  avoided  his  society.  This 
was  not  difficult,  as  he  himself  had  shown  no  desire  to  in- 
trude his  confidences  upon  her  j  and  even  in  her  shyness 
she  could  not  help  thinking  that  if  he  had  treated  the 
situation  lightly  or  humorously  —  as  she  felt  sure  Mr. 
Brace  or  Mr.  Crosby  would  have  done — it  would  have 
been  less  awkward  and  unpleasant.  But  his  gloomy  re- 
serve seemed  to  the  high-spirited  girl  to  color  their  inno- 
cent partnership  with  the  darkness  of  conspiracy. 

"  If  your  conscience  troubles  you,  Mr.  Hurlstone,  in 
regard  to  the  wretched  infatuation  of  those  people,"  she 
had  once  said,  "  undeceive  them,  if  you  can,  and  I  will 
assist  you.  And  don't  let  that  affair  of  Captain  Bunker 
worry  you  either.  I  have  already  confessed  to  the  Co- 
mandante  that  he  escaped  through  my  carelessness." 

"You  could  not  have  done  otherwise  without  sacri- 
ficing the  poor  Secretary,  who  must  have  helped  you," 
Hurlstone  returned  quietly. 

Miss  Keene  bit  her  lip  and  dropped  the  subject.  At 
their  next  meeting  Hurlstone  himself  resumed  it. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  allow  that  absurd  decree  of  the 
Council  to  disturb  you ;  I  imagine  they  're  quite  con- 
vinced of  their  folly.  I  know  that  the  Padre  is ;  and  I 
know  that  he  thinks  you  've  earned  a  right  to  the  grati- 
tude of  the  Council  in  your  gracious  task  at  the  Presidio 
school  that  is  far  beyond  any  fancied  political  service." 

"  I  really  have  n't  thought  about  it  at  all,"  said  Miss 
Keene  coolly.  "  I  thought  it  was  you  who  were  an- 
noyed." 

"I  ?  not  at  all,"  returned  Hurlstone  quickly.     "I  have 


180         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

been  able  to  assist  the  Padre  in  arranging  the  ecclesias- 
tical archives  of  the  church,  and  in  suggesting  some  im- 
provement in  codifying  the  ordinances  of  the  last  forty 
years.  No ;  I  believe  I  'm  earning  my  living  here,  and  I 
fancy  they  think  so." 

"  Then  it  is  n't  that  that  troubles  you  ?  "  said  Miss 
Keene  carelessly,  but  glancing  at  him  under  the  shade  of 
her  lashes. 

"  No,"  he  said  coldly,  turning  away. 

Yet  unsatisfactory  as  these  brief  interviews  were,  they 
revived  in  Miss  Keene  the  sympathizing  curiosity  and 
interest  she  had  always  felt  for  this  singular  man,  and 
which  had  been  only  held  in  abeyance  at  the  beginning 
of  their  exile ;  in  fact,  she  found  herself  thinking  of  him 
more  during  the  interval  when  they  seldom  saw  each 
other,  and  apparently  had  few  interests  in  common,  than 
when  they  were  together  on  the  Excelsior.  Gradually 
she  slipped  into  three  successive  phases  of  feeling  towards 
him,  each  of  them  marked  with  an  equal  degree  of  peril 
to  her  peace  of  mind.  She  began  with  a  profound  in- 
terest in  the  mystery  of  his  secluded  habits,  his  strange 
abstraction,  and  a  recognition  of  the  evident  superiority 
of  a  nature  capable  of  such  deep  feeling  —  uninfluenced 
by  those  baser  distractions  which  occupied  Brace,  Crosby, 
and  Winslow.  This  phase  passed  into  a  settled  convic- 
tion that  some  woman  was  at  the  root  of  his  trouble,  and 
responsible  for  it.  With  an  instinctive  distrust  of  her 
own  sex,  she  was  satisfied  that  it  must  be  either  a  mis- 
placed or  unworthy  attachment,  and  that  the  unknown 
woman  was  to  blame.  This  second  phase  —  which  hov- 
ered between  compassion  and  resentment  —  suddenly 
changed  to  the  latter  —  the  third  phase  of  her  feelings. 
Miss  Keene  became  convinced  that  Mr.  Hurlstone  had  a 
settled  aversion  to  herself.  Why  and  wherefore,  she  did 
not  attempt  to  reason,  yet  she  was  satisfied  that  from  the 


A   Gleam  of  Sunshine.  181 

first  he  disliked  her.  His  studious  reserve  on  the  Excel- 
sior, compared  with  the  attentions  of  the  others,  ought 
then  to  have  convinced  her  of  the  fact ;  and  there  was  no 
doubt  now  that  his  present  discontent  could  be  traced  to 
the  unfortunate  circumstances  that  brought  them  together. 
Having  given  herself  up  to  that  idea,  she  vacillated  be- 
tween a  strong  impulse  to  inform  him  that  she  knew  his 
real  feelings  and  an  equally  strong  instinct  to  avoid  him 
hereafter  entirely.  The  result  was  a  feeble  compromise. 
On  the  ground  that  Mr.  Hurlstone  could  "scarcely  be 
expected  to  admire  her  inferior  performances,"  she  de- 
clined to  invite  him  with  Father  Esteban  to  listen  to  her 
pupils.  Father  Esteban  took  a  huge  pinch  of  snuff,  ex- 
amined Miss  Keene  attentively,  and  smiled  a  sad  smile. 
The  next  day  he  begged  Hurlstone  to  take  a  volume  of 
old  music  to  Miss  Keene  with  his  compliments.  Hurl- 
stone  did  so,  and  for  some  reason  exerted  himself  to  be 
agreeable.  As  he  made  no  allusion  to  her  rudeness,  she 
presumed  he  did  not  know  of  it,  and  speedily  forgot  it 
herself.  When  he  suggested  a  return  visit  to  the  boy 
choir,  with  whom  he  occasionally  practiced,  she  blushed 
and  feared  she  had  scarcely  the  time.  But  she  came  with 
Mrs.  Markham,  some  consciousness,  and  a  visible  color ! 
And  then,  almost  without  her  knowing  how  or  why, 
and  entirely  unexpected  and  unheralded,  came  a  day  so 
strangely  and  unconsciously  happy,  so  innocently  sweet 
and  joyous,  that  it  seemed  as  if  all  the  other  days  of  her 
exile  had  only  gone  before  to  create  it,  and  as  if  it  —  and 
it  alone  —  were  a  sufficient  reason  for  her  being  there. 
A  day  full  of  gentle  intimations,  laughing  suggestions, 
childlike  surprises  and  awakenings  ;  a  day  delicious  for 
the  very  incompleteness  of  its  vague  happiness.  And  this 
remarkable  day  was  simply  marked  in  Mrs.  Markham's 
diary  as  follows  : —  "  Went  with  E.  to  Indian  village  ;  met 
Padre  and  J.  H.  J.  H.  actually  left  shell  and  crawled  on 
beach  with  E.  E.  chatty." 


1 82         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

The  day  itself  had  been  singularly  quiet  and  gracious, 
even  for  that  rare  climate  of  balmy  days  and  recuperating 
nights.  At  times  the  slight  breath  of  the  sea  which  usual- 
ly stirred  the  morning  air  of  Todos  Santos  was  suspended, 
and  a  hush  of  expectation  seemed  to  arrest  land  and 
water.  When  Miss  Keene  and  Mrs.  Markham  left  the 
Presidio,  the  tide  was  low,  and  their  way  lay  along  the 
beach  past  the  Mission  walls.  A  walk  of  two  or  three 
miles  brought  them  to  the  Indian  village  —  properly  a 
suburban  quarter  of  Todos  Santos  —  a  collection  of  adobe 
huts  and  rudely  cultivated  fields.  Padre  Esteban  and 
Mr.  Hurlstone  were  awaiting  them  in  the  palm-thatched 
veranda  of  a  more  pretentious  cabin,  that  served  as  a 
school-room.  "This  is  Don  Diego's  design,"  said  the 
Padre,  beaming  with  a  certain  paternal  pride  on  Hurl- 
stone,  "  built  by  himself  and  helped  by  the  heathen ;  but 
look  you  :  my  gentleman  is  not  satisfied  with  it,  and  wishes 
now  to  bring  his  flock  to  the  Mission  school,  and  have 
them  mingle  with  the  pure-blooded  races  on  an  equality. 
That  is  the  revolutionary  idea  of  this  sans  culotte  re- 
former," continued  the  good  Father,  shaking  his  yellow 
finger  with  gentle  archness  at  the  young  man.  "  Ah,  we 
shall  yet  have  a  revolution  in  Todos  Santos  unless  you 
ladies  take  him  in  hand.  He  has  already  brought  the 
half-breeds  over  to  his  side,  and  those  heathens  follow 
him  like  dumb  cattle  anywhere.  There,  take  him  away 
and  scold  him,  Dona  Leonor,  while  I  speak  to  the  Senora 
Markham  of  the  work  that  her  good  heart  and  skillful 
fingers  may  do  for  my  poor  muchachos." 

Eleanor  Keene  lifted  her  beautiful  eyes  to  Hurlstone 
with  an  artless  tribute  in  their  depths  that  brought  the 
blood  faintly  into  his  cheek.  She  was  not  thinking  of 
the  priest's  admonishing  words ;  she  was  thinking  of  the 
quiet,  unselfish  work  that  this  gloomy  misanthrope  had 
been  doing  while  his  companions  had  been  engaged  in 


A   Gleam  of  Sunshine.  183 

lower  aims  and  listless  pleasures,  and  while  she  herself 
had  been  aimlessly  fretting  and  diverting  herself.  What 
were  her  few  hours  of  applauded  instruction  with  the 
pretty  Murillo-like  children  of  the  Fort  compared  to  his 
silent  and  unrecognized  labor  !  Yet  even  at  this  moment 
an  uneasy  doubt  crossed  her  mind. 

"  I  suppose  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Miss  Chubb  interest 
themselves  greatly  in  your  —  in  the  Padre's  charities  ?  " 

The  first  playful  smile  she  had  seen  on  Hurlstone's 
face  lightened  in  his  eyes  and  lips,  and  was  becoming. 

"  I  am  afraid  my  barbarians  are  too  low  and  too  near 
home  for  Mrs.  Brimmer's  missionary  zeal.  She  and  Miss 
Chubb  patronize  the  Mexican  school  with  cast-off  dresses, 
old  bonnets  retrimmed,  flannel  petticoats,  some  old  novels 
and  books  of  poetry  —  of  which  the  Padre  makes  an 
auto-da-fe  —  and  their  own  patronizing  presence  on  f£te 
days.  Providence  has  given  them  the  vague  impression 
that  leprosy  and  contagious  skin-disease  are  a  peculiar- 
ity of  the  southern  aborigine,  and  they  have  left  me 
severely  alone." 

"  I  wish  you  would  prevail  upon  the  Padre  to  let  me 
help  you,"  said  Miss  Keene,  looking  down. 

"  But  you  already  have  the  Commander's  chickens  — 
which  you  are  bringing  up  as  swans,  by  the  way,"  said 
Hurlstone  mischievously.  "  You  would  n't  surely  aban- 
don the  nest  again  ?  " 

"You  are  laughing  at  me,"  said  Miss  Keene,  putting 
on  a  slight  pout  to  hide  the  vague  pleasure  that  Hurl- 
stone's  gayer  manner  was  giving  her.  "  But,  really,  I  Ve 
been  thinking  that  the  Presidio  children  are  altogether 
too  pretty  and  picturesque  for  me,  and  that  I  enjoy  them 
too  much  to  do  them  any  good.  It 's  like  playing  with 
them,  you  know  !  " 

Hurlstone  laughed,  but  suddenly  looking  down  upon 
her  face  he  was  struck  with  its  youthfulness.  She  had 


1 86         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  I  don't  like  to  worry  that  good  old  Padre,"  he  con- 
tinued, with  a  light  smile,  "but  I  'm  afraid  that  they 
prefer  this  cross  to  the  chapel  for  certain  heathenish 
reasons  of  their  own.  I  am  quite  sure  that  they  still 
hold  some  obscure  rites  here  under  the  good  Father's 
very  nose,  and  that,  in  the  guise  of  this  emblem  of  our 
universal  faith,  they  worship  some  deity  we  have  no 
knowledge  of." 

"  It 's  a  shame,"  said  Miss  Keene  quickly. 

To  her  surprise,  Hurlstone  did  not  appear  so  shocked 
as  she,  in  her  belief  of  his  religious  sympathy  with  the 
Padre,  had  imagined. 

"  They  're  a  harmless  race,"  he  said  carelessly.  "  The 
place  is  much  frequented  by  the  children  —  especially 
the  young  girls ;  a  good  many  of  these  offerings  came 
from  them." 

The  better  to  examine  these  quaint  tributes,  Miss 
Keene  had  thrown  herself,  with  an  impulsive,  girlish 
abandonment,  on  the  mound  by  the  cross,  and  Hurl- 
stone  sat  down  beside  her.  Their  eyes  met  in  an  inno- 
cent pleasure  of  each  other's  company.  She  thought 
him  very  handsome  in  the  dark,  half  official  Mexican 
dress  that  necessity  alone  had  obliged  him  to  assume, 
and  much  more  distinguished-looking  than  his  compan- 
ions in  their  extravagant  foppery  ;  he  thought  her  beauty 
more  youthful  and  artless  than  he  had  imagined  it  to  be, 
and  with  his  older  and  graver  experiences  felt  a  certain 
protecting  superiority  that  was  pleasant  and  reassuring. 

Nevertheless,  seated  so  near  each  other,  they  were  very 
quiet.  Hurlstone  could  not  tell  whether  it  was  the  sea 
or  the  flowers,  but  the  dress  of  the  young  girl  seemed  to 
exhale  some  subtle  perfume  of  her  own  freshness  that 
half  took  away  his  breath.  She  had  scraped  up  a  hand- 
ful of  sand,  and  was  allowing  it  to  escape  through  her 
slim  fingers  in  a  slender  rain  on  the  ground.  He  was 


A  Gleam  of  Sunshine.  187 

watching  the  operation  with  what  he  began  to  fear  was 
fatuous  imbecility. 

"  Miss  Keene  ?  —  I  beg  your  pardon  "  — 

"Mr.  Hurlstone  ?  —  Excuse  me,  you  were  saying"  — 

They  had  both  spoken  at  the  same  moment,  and  smiled 
forgivingly  at  each  other.  Hurlstone  gallantly  insisted 
upon  the  precedence  of  her  thought  —  the  scamp  had 
doubted  the  coherency  of  his  own. 

"  I  used  to  think,"  she  began  —  "  you  won't  be  angry, 
will  you  ? " 

"  Decidedly  not." 

"  I  used  to  think  you  had  an  idea  of  becoming  a  priest." 

"  Why  ? " 

"  Because  —  you  are  sure  you  won't  be  angry  —  because 
I  thought  you  hated  women  ! " 

"  Father  Esteban  is  a  priest,"  said  Hurlstone,  with  a 
faint  smile,  "and  you  know  he  thinks  kindly  of  your 
sex." 

"  Yes ;  but  perhaps  his  life  was  never  spoiled  by  some 
wicked  woman  —  like  —  like  yours." 

For  an  instant  he  gazed  intently  into  her  eyes. 

"Who  told  you  that?" 

"No  one." 

She  was  evidently  speaking  the  absolute  truth.  There 
was  no  deceit  or  suppression  in  her  clear  gaze ;  if  any- 
thing, only  the  faintest  look  of  wonder  at  his  astonish- 
ment. And  he  —  this  jealously  guarded  secret,  the  curse 
of  his  whole  wretched  life,  had  been  guessed  by  this 
simple  girl,  without  comment,  without  reserve,  without 
horror!  And  there  had  been  no  scene,  no  convulsion 
of  Nature,  no  tragedy ;  he  had  not  thrown  himself  into 
yonder  sea ;  she  had  not  fled  from  him  shrinking,  but 
was  sitting  there  opposite  to  him  in  gentle  smiling  expec- 
tation, the  golden  light  of  Todos  Santos  around  them,  a 
bit  of  bright  ribbon  shining  in  her  dark  hair,  and  he,  mis- 


1 88         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

erable,  outcast,  and  recluse,  had  not  even  changed  his 
position,  but  was  looking  up  without  tremulousness  or 
excitement,  and  smiling,  too. 

He  raised  himself  suddenly  on  his  knee. 

"  And  what  if  it  were  all  true  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  I  should  be  very  sorry  for  you,  and  glad  it  were  all 
over  now,"  she  said  softly. 

A  faint  pink  flush  covered  her  cheek  the  next  moment, 
as  if  she  had  suddenly  become  aware  of  another  meaning 
in  her  speech,  and  she  turned  her  head  hastily  towards 
the  village.  To  her  relief  she  discerned  that  a  number 
of  Indian  children  had  approached  them  from  behind 
and  had  halted  a  few  paces  from  the  cross.  Their  hands 
were  full  of  flowers  and  shells  as  they  stood  hesitatingly 
watching  the  couple. 

"They  are  some  of  the  school-children,"  said  Hurl- 
stone,  in  answer  to  her  inquiring  look  ;  "  but  I  can't  un- 
derstand why  they  come  here  so  openly." 

"  Oh,  don't  scold  them  !  "  said  Eleanor,  forgetting  her 
previous  orthodox  protest ;  "  let  us  go  away,  and  pretend 
we  don't  notice  them." 

But  as  she  was  about  to  rise  to  her  feet  the  hesitation 
of  the  little  creatures  ended  in  a  sudden  advance  of  the 
whole  body,  and  before  she  comprehended  what  they 
were  doing  they  had  pressed  the  whole  of  their  floral 
tributes  in  her  lap.  The  color  rose  again  quickly  to  her 
laughing  face  as  she  looked  at  Hurlstone. 

"Do  you  usually  get  up  this  pretty  surprise  for  vis- 
itors ? "  she  said  hesitatingly. 

"I  assure  you  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  it,"  he  an- 
swered, with  frank  amazement ;  "  it 's  quite  spontaneous. 
And  look  —  they  are  even  decorating  me." 

It  was  true  ;  they  had  thrown  a  half  dozen  strings  of 
shells  on  Hurlstone's  unresisting  shoulders,  and,  unheed- 
ing the  few  words  he  laughingly  addressed  them  in  their 


A  Gleam  of  Sunshine.  189 

own  dialect,  they  ran  off  a  few  paces,  and  remained  stand- 
ing, as  if  gravely  contemplating  their  work.  Suddenly, 
with  a  little  outcry  of  terror,  they  turned,  fled  wildly  past 
them,  and  disappeared  in  the  bushes. 

Miss  Keene  and  Hurlstone  rose  at  the  same  moment, 
but  the  young  girl,  taking  a  step  forward,  suddenly  stag- 
gered, and  was  obliged  to  clasp  one  of  the  arms  of  the 
cross  to  keep  herself  from  falling.  Hurlstone  sprang  to 
her  side. 

"  Are  you  ill  ?  "  he  asked  hurriedly.  "  You  are  quite 
white.  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

A  smile  crossed  her  colorless  face. 

"I  am  certainly  very  giddy;  everything  seems  to 
tremble." 

"Perhaps  it  is  the  flowers,"  he  said  anxiously.  '"Their 
heavy  perfume  in  this  close  air  affects  you.  Throw  them 
away,  for  Heaven's  sake  !  " 

But  she  clutched  them  tighter  to  her  heart  as  she  leaned 
for  a  moment,  pale  yet  smiling,  against  the  cross. 

"No,  no!"  she  said  earnestly;  "it  was  not  that.  But 
the  children  were  frightened,  and  their  alarm  terrified  me. 
There,  it  is  over  now." 

She  let  him  help  her  to  her  seat  again  as  he  glanced 
hurriedly  around  him.  It  must  have  been  sympathy  with 
her,  for  he  was  conscious  of  a  slight  vertigo  himself.  The 
air  was  very  close  and  still.  Even  the  pleasant  murmur 
of  the  waves  had  ceased. 

"  How  very  low  the  tide  is  !  "  said  Eleanor  Keene,  rest- 
ing her  elbow  on  her  knees  and  her  round  chin  upon  her 
hand.  "  I  wonder  if  that  could  have  frightened  those 
dear  little  midgets  ? "  The  tide,  in  fact,  had  left  the 
shore  quite  bare  and  muddy  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  to  seaward. 

Hurlstone  arose,  with  grave  eyes,  but  a  voice  that  was 
unchanged. 


190         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Suppose  we  inquire  ?  Lean  on  my  arm,  and  we  '11  go 
up  the  hill  towards  the  Mission  garden.  Bring  your  flow- 
ers with  you." 

The  color  had  quite  returned  to  her  cheek  as  she  leant 
on  his  proffered  arm.  Yet  perhaps  she  was  really  weaker 
than  she  knew,  for  he  felt  the  soft  pressure  of  her  hand 
and  the  gentle  abandonment  of  her  figure  against  his  own 
as  they  moved  on.  But  for  some  preoccupying  thought, 
he  might  have  yielded  more  completely  to  the  pleasure  of 
that  innocent  contact  and  have  drawn  her  closer  towards 
him ;  yet  they  moved  steadily  on,  he  contenting  himself 
from  time  to  time  with  a  hurried  glance  at  the  downcast 
fringes  of  the  eyes  beside  him.  Presently  he  stopped,  his 
attention  disturbed  by  what  appeared  to  be  the  fluttering 
of  a  black-winged,  red-crested  bird,  in  the  bushes  before 
him.  The  next  moment  he  discovered  it  to  be  the  rose- 
covered  head  of  Dona  Isabel,  who  was  running  towards 
them.  Eleanor  withdrew  her  arm  from  Hurlstone's. 

"Ah,  imbecile!"  said  Dona  Isabel,  pouncing  upon 
Eleanor  Keene  like  an  affectionate  panther.  "They 
have  said  you  were  on  the  seashore,  and  I  fly  for  you  as 
a  bird.  Tell  to  me  quick,"  she  whispered,  hastily  put- 
ting her  own  little  brown  ear  against  Miss  Keene's  mouth, 
"  immediatamente,  are  you  much  happy  ?  " 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Brace  ? "  said  Miss  Keene,  trying  to 
effect  a  diversion,  as  she  laughed  and  struggled  to  get 
free  from  her  tormentor. 

"  He,  the  idiot  boy  !  Naturally,  when  he  is  for  use,  he 
comes  not.  But  as  a  maniac  —  ever !  I  would  that  I 
have  him  no  more.  You  will  to  me  presently  give  your 
—  brother !  I  have  since  to-day  a  presentimiento  that  him 
I  shall  love!  Ah!" 

She  pressed  her  little  brown  fist,  still  tightly  clutching 
her  fan,  against  her  low  bodice,  as  if  already  transfixed 
with  a  secret  and  absorbing  passion. 


A  Gleam  of  Sunshine.  191 

"  Well,  you  shall  have  Dick  then,"  said  Miss  Keene, 
laughing  ;  "  but  was  it  for  that  you  were  seeking  me  ?  " 

"  Mother  of  God  !  you  know  not  then  what  has  hap- 
pened ?  You  are  a  blind  —  a  deaf  —  to  but  one  thing 
all  the  time  ?  Ah  !  "  she  said  quickly,  unfolding  her  fan 
and  modestly  diving  her  little  head  behind  it,  "  I  have 
ashamed  for  you,  Miss  Keene." 

"  But  what  has  happened  ? "  said  Hurlstone,  inter- 
posing to  relieve  his  companion.  "We  fancied  some- 
thing "  — 

"  Something !  he  says  something  !  —  ah,  that  something 
was  a  temblor !  An  earthquake  !  The  earth  has  shaken 
himself.  Look ! " 

She  pointed  with  her  fan  to  the  shore,  where  the  sea 
had  suddenly  returned  in  a  turbulence  of  foam  and  bil- 
lows that  was  breaking  over  the  base  of  the  cross  they 
had  just  quitted. 

Miss  Keene  drew  a  quick  sigh.  Dona  Isabel  had 
ducked  again  modestly  behind  her  fan,  but  this  time 
dragging  with  her  other  arm  Miss  Keene's  head  down  to 
share  its  discreet  shadow  as  she  whispered,  — 

"  And  —  infatuated  one  !  —  you  two  never  noticed  it ! " 


CHAPTER  V. 

CLOUDS   AND   CHANGE. 

THE  earthquake  shock,  although  the  first  experienced 
by  the  Americans,  had  been  a  yearly  phenomenon  to  the 
people  of  Todos  Santos,  and  was  so  slight  as  to  leave 
little  impression  upon  either  the  low  adobe  walls  of  the 
pueblo  or  the  indolent  population.  "If  it's  a  provision 
of  Nature  for  shaking  up  these  Rip  Van  Winkle  Latin 
races  now  and  then,  it 's  a  dead  failure,  as  far  as  Todos 
Santos  is  concerned,"  Crosby  had  said,  with  a  yawn. 
"Brace,  who's  got  geology  on  the  brain  ever  since  he 
struck  cinnabar  ore,  says  he  is  n't  sure  the  Injins  ain't 
right  when  they  believe  that  the  Pacific  Ocean  used  to 
roll  straight  up  to  the  Presidio,  and  there  wasn't  any 
channel  —  and  that  reef  of  rocks  was  upheaved  in  their 
time.  But  what's  the  use  of  it?  it  never  really  waked 
them  up."  "  Perhaps  they  're  waiting  for  another  kind 
of  earthquake,"  Winslow  had  responded  sententiously. 

In  six  weeks  it  had  been  forgotten,  except  by  three 
people  —  Miss  Keene,  James  Hurlstone,  and  Padre  Este- 
ban.  Since  Hurlstone  had  parted  with  Miss  Keene  on 
that  memorable  afternoon  he  had  apparently  lapsed  into 
his  former  reserve.  Without  seeming  to  avoid  her  timid 
advances,  he  met  her  seldom,  and  then  only  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Padre  or  Mrs.  Markham.  Although  uneasy 
at  the  deprivation  of  his  society,  his  present  shyness  did 
not  affect  her  as  it  had  done  at  first :  she  knew  it  was  no 
longer  indifference  ;  she  even  fancied  she  understood  it 
from  what  had  been  her  own  feelings.  If  he  no  longer 


Clouds  and  Change.  193 

raised  his  eyes  to  hers  as  frankly  as  he  had  that  day,  she 
felt  a  more  delicate  pleasure  in  the  consciousness  of  his 
lowered  eyelids  when  they  met,  and  the  instinct  that  told 
her  when  his  melancholy  glance  followed  her  unobserved. 
The  sex  of  these  lovers  —  if  we  may  call  them  so  who  had 
never  exchanged  a  word  of  love  —  seemed  to  be  changed. 
It  was  Miss  Keene  who  now  sought  him  with  a  respect- 
ful and  frank  admiration ;  it  was  Hurlstone  who  now 
tried  to  avoid  it  with  a  feminine  dread  of  reciprocal  dis- 
play. Once  she  had  even  adverted  to  the  episode  of  the 
cross.  They  were  standing  under  the  arch  of  the  refec- 
tory door,  waiting  for  Padre  Esteban,  and  looking  towards 
the  sea. 

"  Do  you  think  we  were  ever  in  any  real  danger,  down 
there,  on  the  shore  —  that  day  ?  "  she  said  timidly. 

"No;  not  from  the  sea,"  he  replied,  looking  at  her 
with  a  half  defiant  resolution. 

"  From  what  then  ?  "  she  asked,  with  a  naivete*  that  was 
yet  a  little  conscious. 

"  Do  you  remember  the  children  giving  you  their  offer- 
ings that  day  ?  "  he  asked  abruptly. 

"  I  do,"  she  replied,  with  smiling  eyes. 

"  Well,  it  appears  that  it  is  the  custom  for  the  betrothed 
couples  to  come  to  the  cross  to  exchange  their  vows. 
They  mistook  us  for  lovers." 

All  the  instinctive  delicacy  of  Miss  Keene's  womanhood 
resented  the  rude  infelicity  of  this  speech  and  the  flip- 
pant manner  of  its  utterance.  She  did  not  blush,  but 
lifted  her  clear  eyes  calmly  to  his. 

"  It  was  an  unfortunate  mistake,"  she  said  coldly,  "  the 
more  so  as  they  were  your  pupils.  Ah !  here  is  Father 
Esteban,"  she  added,  with  a  marked  tone  of  relief,  as  she 
crossed  over  to  the  priest's  side. 

When  Father  Esteban  returned  to  the  refectory  that 
evening,  Hurlstone  was  absent.  When  it  grew  later,  be- 


194         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

coming  uneasy,  the  good  Father  sought  him  in  the  gar- 
den. At  the  end  of  the  avenue  of  pear-trees  there  was  a 
break  in  the  sea-wall,  and  here,  with  his  face  to  the  sea, 
Hurlstone  was  leaning  gloomily.  Father  Esteban's  tread 
was  noiseless,  and  he  had  laid  his  soft  hand  on  the  young 
man's  shoulder  before  Hurlstone  was  aware  of  his  pres- 
ence. He  started  slightly,  his  gloomy  eyes  fell  before  the 
priest's. 

"  My  son,"  said  the  old  man  gravely,  "  this  must  go  on 
no  longer." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  Hurlstone  replied  coldly. 

"  Do  not  try  to  deceive  yourself,  nor  me.  Above  all, 
do  not  try  to  deceive  her.  Either  you  are  or  are  not  in 
love  with  this  countrywoman  of  yours.  If  you  are  not, 
my  respect  for  her  and  my  friendship  for  you  prompts  me 
to  save  you  both  from  a  foolish  intimacy  that  may  ripen 
into  a  misplaced  affection  ;  if  you  are  already  in  love  with 
her"  — 

"  I  have  never  spoken  a  word  of  love  to  her ! "  inter- 
rupted Hurlstone  quickly.  "  I  have  even  tried  to  avoid 
her  since  "  — 

"  Since  you  found  that  you  loved  her !  Ah,  foolish 
boy !  and  you  think  that  because  the  lips  speak  not,  the 
passions  of  the  heart  are  stilled  !  Do  you  think  your 
silence  in  her  presence  is  not  a  protestation  that  she, 
even  she,  child  as  she  is,  can  read,  with  the  cunning  of 
her  sex?" 

"Well— -if  I  am  in  love  with  her,  what  then?"  said 
Hurlstone  doggedly.  "  It  is  no  crime  to  love  a  pure  and 
simple  girl.  Am  I  not  free  ?  You  yourself,  in  yonder 
church,  told  me  "  — 

"  Silence,  Diego,"  said  the  priest  sternly.  "  Silence, 
before  you  utter  the  thought  that  shall  disgrace  you  to 
speak  and  me  to  hear  ! " 

"  Forgive  me,  Father  Esteban,"  said  the  young  man 


Clouds  and  Change.  195 

hurriedly,  grasping  both  hands  of  the  priest.  "  Forgive 
me  —  I  am  mad  —  distracted  —  but  I  swear  to  you  I 
only  meant "  — 

"  Hush  ! "  interrupted  the  priest  more  gently.  "  So  j 
that  will  do."  He  stopped,  drew  out  his  snuff-box,  rapped 
the  lid,  and  took  a  pinch  of  snuff  slowly.  "  We  will 
not  recur  to  that  point.  Then  you  have  told  her  the 
story  of  your  life  ? " 

"  No  ;  but  I  will.  She  shall  know  all  —  everything  — 
before  I  utter  a  word  of  love  to  her." 

"  Ah  !  bueno  !  muy  bueno  /"  said  the  Padre,  wiping  his 
nose  ostentatiously.  "  Ah  !  let  me  see  !  Then,  when  we 
have  shown  her  that  we  cannot  possibly  marry  her,  we  will 
begin  to  make  love  to  her  !  Eh,  eh !  that  is  the  Ameri- 
can fashion.  Ah,  pardon  ! "  he  continued,  in  response 
to  a  gesture  of  protestation  from  Hurlstone ;  "I  am 
wrong.  It  is  when  we  have  told  her  that  we  cannot 
marry  her  as  a  Protestant,  that  we  will  make  love  as  a 
Catholic.  Is  that  it  ?  " 

"  Hear  me,"  said  Hurlstone  passionately.  "  You  have 
saved  me  from  madness  and,  perhaps,  death.  Your  care 
—  your  kindness  —  your  teachings  have  given  me  life 
again.  Don't  blame  me,  Father  Esteban,  if,  in  casting 
off  my  old  self,  you  have  given  me  hopes  of  a  new  and 
fresher  life  —  of"  — 

"  A  newer  and  fresher  love,  you  would  say,"  said  the 
Padre,  with  a  sad  smile.  "  Be  it  so.  You  will  at  least 
do  justice  to  the  old  priest,  when  you  remember  that  he 
never  pressed  you  to  take  vows  that  would  have  pre- 
vented this  forever." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  Hurlstone,  taking  the  old  man's 
hand.  "  And  you  will  remember,  too,  that  I  was  happy 
and  contented  before  this  came  upon  me.  Tell  me  what 
I  shall  do.  Be  my  guide  —  my  friend,  Father  Esteban. 
Put  me  where  I  was  a  few  months  ago  —  before  I  learned 
to  love  her." 


196         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Do  you  mean  it,  Diego  ? "  said  the  old  man,  grasping 
his  hand  tightly,  and  fixing  his  eyes  upon  him. 

"  I  do." 

"  Then  listen  to  me,  for  it  is  my  turn  to  speak.  When, 
eight  months  ago,  you  sought  the  shelter  of  that  blessed 
roof,  it  was  for  refuge  from  a  woman  that  had  cursed 
your  life.  It  was  given  you.  You  would  leave  it  now 
to  commit  an  act  that  would  bring  another  woman,  as 
mad  as  yourself,  clamoring  at  its  doors  for  protection 
from  you.  For  what  you  are  proposing  to  this  innocent 
girl  is  what  you  accepted  from  the  older  and  wickeder 
woman.  You  have  been  cursed  because  a  woman  divided 
for  you  what  was  before  God  an  indivisible  right ;  and 
you,  Diego,  would  now  redivide  that  with  another,  whom 
you  dare  to  say  you  love  !  You  would  use  the  opportunity 
of  her  helplessness  and  loneliness  here  to  convince  her ; 
you  would  tempt  her  with  sympathy,  for  she  is  unhappy ; 
with  companionship,  for  she  has  no  longer  the  world  to 
choose  from  —  with  everything  that  should  make  her 
sacred  from  your  pursuit." 

"Enough,"  said  Hurlstone  hoarsely;  "say  no  more. 
Only  I  implore  you  tell  me  what  to  do  now  to  save  her. 
I  will  —  if  you  tell  me  to  do  it  —  leave  her  forever." 

"  Why  should  you  go  ?  "  said  the  priest  quietly.  "  Her 
absence  will  be  sufficient." 

"  Her  absence  ? "  echoed  Hurlstone. 

"Hers  alone.  The  conditions  that  brought  you  here 
are  unchanged.  You  are  still  in  need  of  an  asylum  from 
the  world  and  the  wife  you  have  repudiated.  Why  should 
you  abandon  it  ?  For  the  girl,  there  is  no  cause  why  she 
should  remain  —  beyond  yourself.  She  has  a  brother 
whom  she  loves  —  who  wants  her  —  who  has  the  right  to 
claim  her  at  any  time.  She  will  go  to  him." 

"  But  how  ?  " 

"  That  has  been  my  secret,  and  will  be  my  sacrifice  to 


Clouds  and  Change.  197 

you,  Diego,  my  son.  I  have  foreseen  all  this ;  I  have  ex- 
pected it  from  the  day  that  girl  sent  you  her  woman's 
message,  that  was  half  a  challenge,  from  her  school  —  I 
have  known  it  from  the  day  you  walked  together  on  the 
sea-shore.  I  was  blind  before  that  —  for  I  am  weak  in 
my  way,  too,  and  I  had  dreamed  of  other  things.  God 
has  willed  it  otherwise."  He  paused,  and  returning  the 
pressure  of  Hurlstone's  hand,  went  on.  "  My  secret  and 
my  sacrifice  for  you  is  this.  For  the  last  two  hundred 
years  the  Church  has  had  a  secret  and  trusty  messenger 
from  the  See  at  Guadalajara  —  in  a  ship  that  touches 
here  for  a  few  hours  only  every  three  years.  Her  arrival 
and  departure  is  known  only  to  myself  and  my  brothers 
of  the  Council.  By  this  wisdom  and  the  provision  of 
God,  the  integrity  of  the  Holy  Church  and  the  conversion 
of  the  heathen  have  been1  maintained  without  interruption 
and  interference.  You  know  now,  my  son,  why  your 
comrades  were  placed  under  surveillance  ;  why  it  was 
necessary  that  the  people  should  believe  in  a  political 
conspiracy  among  yourselves,  rather  than  the  facts  as 
they  existed,  which  might  have  bred  a  dangerous  curios- 
ity among  them.  I  have  given  you  our  secret,  Diego  — 
that  is  but  a  part  of  my  sacrifice.  When  that  ship  ar- 
rives, and  she  is  expected  daily,  I  will  secretly  place  Miss 
Keene  and  her  friend  on  board,  with  explanatory  letters 
to  the  Archbishop,  and  she  will  be  assisted  to  rejoin  her 
brother.  It  will  be  against  the  wishes  of  the  Council ;  but 
my  will,"  continued  the  old  inan,  with  a  gesture  of  im- 
periousness,  "  is  the  will  of  the  Church,  and  the  law  that 
overrides  all." 

He  had  stopped,  with  a  strange  fire  in  his  eyes.  It  still 
continued  to  burn  as  he  went  on  rapidly,  — 

"  You  will  understand  the  sacrifice  I  am  making  in  tell- 
ing you  this,  when  you  know  that  I  could  have  done  all 
that  I  propose  without  your  leave  or  hindrance.  Yes, 


198         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior, 

Diego  ;  I  had  but  to  stretch  out  my  hand  thus,  and  that 
foolish  fire-brand  of  a  heretic  muchacha  would  have  van- 
ished from  Todos  Santos  forever.  I  could  have  left  you 
in  your  fool's  paradise,  and  one  morning  you  would  have 
found  her  gone.  I  should  have  condoled  with  you,  and 
consoled  you,  and  you  would  have  forgotten  her  as  you 
did  the  other.  I  should  not  have  hesitated;  it  is  the 
right  of  the  Church  through  all  time  to  break  through  those 
carnal  ties  without  heed  of  the  suffering  flesh,  and  I  ought 
to  have  done  so.  This,  and  this  alone,  would  have  been 
worthy  of  Las  Casas  and  Junipero  Serra  !  But  I  am 
weak  and  old  —  I  am  no  longer  fit  for  His  work.  Far 
better  that  the  ship  which  takes  her  away  should  bring 
back  my  successor  and  one  more  worthy  Todos  Santos 
than  I." 

He  stopped,  his  eyes  dimmed,  he  buried  his  face  in  his 
hands. 

"You  have  done  right,  Father  Esteban,"  said  Hurl- 
stone,  gently  putting  his  arm  round  the  priest's  shoulders, 
"  and  I  swear  to  you  your  secret  is  as  safe  as  if  you  had 
never  revealed  it  to  me.  Perhaps,"  he  added,  with  a 
sigh,  "  I  should  have  been  happier  if  I  had  not  known  it 
—  if  she  had  passed  out  of  my  life  as  mysteriously  as 
she  had  entered  it ;  but  you  will  try  to  accept  my  sacrifice 
as  some  return  for  yours.  I  shall  see  her  no  more." 

"  But  will  you  swear  it  ? "  said  the  priest  eagerly.  "  Will 
you  swear  that  you  will  not  even  seek  her  to  say  farewell ; 
for  in  that  moment  the  wretched  girl  may  shake  your 
resolution  ? " 

"I  shall  not  see  her,"  repeated  the  young  man  slowly. 

"  But  if  she  asks  an  interview,"  persisted  the  priest, 
"  on  the  pretense  of  having  your  advice  ?  " 

"  She  will  not,"  returned  Hurlstone,  with  a  half  bitter 
recollection  of  their  last  parting.  "  You  do  not  know  her 
pride." 


Clouds  and  Change.  199 

"  Perhaps,"  said  the  priest  musingly.  "  But  I  have 
your  word,  Diego.  And  now  let  us  return  to  the  Mission, 
for  there  is  much  to  prepare,  and  you  shall  assist  me." 

Meantime,  Hurlstone  was  only  half  right  in  his  esti- 
mate of  Miss  Keene's  feelings,  although  the  result  was 
the  same.  The  first  shock  to  her  delicacy  in  his  abrupt 
speech  had  been  succeeded  by  a  renewal  of  her  unea- 
siness concerning  his  past  life  or  history.  While  she 
would,  in  her  unselfish  attachment  for  him,  have  un- 
doubtingly  accepted  any  explanation  he  might  have 
chosen  to  give  her,  his  continued  reserve  and  avoid- 
ance of  her  left  full  scope  to  her  imaginings.  Rejecting 
any  hypothesis  of  his  history  except  that  of  some  unfor- 
tunate love  episode,  she  began  to  think  that  perhaps  he 
still  loved  this  nameless  woman.  Had  anything  occurred 
to  renew  his  affection  ?  It  was  impossible,  in  their  iso- 
lated condition,  that  he  would  hear  from  her.  But  per- 
haps the  priest  might  have  been  a  confidant  of  his  past, 
and  had  recalled  the  old  affection  in  rivalry  of  her? 
Or  had  she  herself  been  unfortunate  through  any  idle 
word  to  reopen  the  wound  ?  Had  there  been  any  sugges- 
tion ?  —  she  checked  herself  suddenly  at  a  thought  that 
benumbed  and  chilled  her !  —  perhaps  that  happy  hour 
at  the  cross  might  have  reminded  him  of  some  episode 
with  another  ?  That  was  the  real  significance  of  his  rude 
speech.  With  this  first  taste  of  the  poison  of  jealousy 
upon  her  virgin  lips,  she  seized  the  cup  and  drank  it 
eagerly.  Ah,  well  —  he  should  keep  his  blissful  recol- 
lections of  the  past  undisturbed  by  her.  Perhaps  he 
might  even  see  —  though  she  had  no  past  —  that  her 
present  life  might  be  as  disturbing  to  him !  She  re- 
called, with  a  foolish  pleasure,  his  solitary  faint  sneer 
at  the  devotion  of  the  Commander's  Secretary.  Why 
should  n't  she,  hereafter,  encourage  that  devotion  as  well 
as  that  sneer  from  this  complacently  beloved  Mr.  Hurl- 


2OO         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

stone  ?  Why  should  he  be  so  assured  of  her  past  ?  The 
fair  and  gentle  reader  who  may  be  shocked  at  this  reve- 
lation of  Eleanor  Keene's  character  will  remember  that 
she  has  not  been  recorded  as  an  angel  in  these  pages  — 
but  as  a  very  human,  honest,  inexperienced  girl,  for  the 
first  time  struggling  with  the  most  diplomatic,  Machiavel- 
lian, and  hypocritical  of  all  the  passions. 

In  pursuance  of  this  new  resolution,  she  determined  to 
accept  an  invitation  from  Mrs.  Markham  to  accompany 
her  and  the  Commander  to  a  reception  at  the  Alcalde's 
house  —  the  happy  Secretary  being  of  the  party.  Mrs. 
Markham,  who  was  under  promise  to  the  Comandante 
not  to  reveal  his  plan  for  the  escape  of  herself  and  Miss 
Keerie  until  the  arrival  of  the  expected  transport,  had 
paid  little  attention  to  the  late  vagaries  of  her  friend,  and 
had  contented  herself  by  once  saying,  with  a  marked 
emphasis,  that  the  more  free  they  kept  themselves  from 
any  entanglements  with  other  people,  the  more  prepared 
they  would  be  for  a  change. 

"  Perhaps  it 's  just  as  well  not  to  be  too  free,  even  with 
those  Jesuits  over  at  the  Mission.  Your  brother,  you 
know,  might  not  like  it." 

"Those  Jesuits!"  repeated  Miss  Keene  indignantly. 
"  Father  Esteban,  to  begin  with,  is  a  Franciscan,  and  Mr. 
Hurlstone  is  as  orthodox  as  you  or  I." 

"  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,  my  dear,"  returned  Mrs. 
Markham  sententiously.  "  Heaven  only  knows  what  dis- 
guises they  assume.  Why,  Hurlstone  and  the  priest  are 
already  as  thick  as  two  peas  ;  and  you  can't  make  me 
believe  they  did  n't  know  of  each  other  before  we  came 
here.  He  was  the  first  one  ashore,  you  remember,  be- 
fore the  mutiny;  and  where  did  he  turn  up?  —  at  the 
Mission,  of  course !  And  have  you  forgotten  that  sleep- 
walking affair  —  all  Jesuitical!  Why,  poor  dear  Mark- 
ham  used  to  say  we  were  surrounded  by  ramifications  of 


Clouds  and  Change.  201 

that  society  —  everywhere.  The  very  waiter  at  your  hotel 
table  might  belong  to  the  Order." 

The  hour  of  the  siesta  was  just  past,  and  the  corridor 
and  gardens  of  the  Alcalde's  house  were  grouped  with 
friends  and  acquaintances  as  the  party  from  the  Presidio 
entered.  Mrs.  Brimmer,  who  had  apparently  effected  a 
temporary  compromise  with  her  late  instincts  of  pro- 
priety, was  still  doing  the  honors  of  the  Alcalde's  house, 
and  had  once  more  assumed  the  Mexican  dishabille,  even 
to  the  slight  exposure  of  her  small  feet,  stockingless,  in 
white  satin  slippers.  The  presence  of  the  Comandante 
and  his  Secretary  guaranteed  the  two  ladies  of  their  party 
a  reception  at  least  faultless  in  form  and  respect,  what- 
ever may  have  been  the  secret  feelings  of  the  hostess 
and  her  friends.  The  Alcalde  received  Mrs.  Markham 
and  Miss  Keene  with  unruffled  courtesy,  and  conducted 
them  to  the  place  of  honor  beside  him. 

As  Eleanor  Keene,  slightly  flushed  and  beautiful  in 
her  unwonted  nervous  excitement,  took  her  seat,  a  flutter 
went  around  the  corridor,  and,  with  the  single  exception 
of  Dona  Isabel,  an  almost  imperceptible  drawing  together 
of  the  other  ladies,  in  offensive  alliance.  Miss  Keene 
had  never  abandoned  her  own  style  of  dress ;  and  that 
afternoon  her  delicate  and  closely-fitting  white  muslin, 
gathered  in  at  the  waist  with  a  broad  blue  belt  of  ribbon, 
seemed  to  accentuate  somewhat  unflatteringly  the  tropi- 
cal neglige  of  Mrs.  Brimmer  and  Miss  Chubb.  Brace, 
who  was  in  attendance,  with  Crosby,  on  the  two  Ramirez 
girls,  could  not  help  being  uneasily  conscious  of  this,  in 
addition  to  the  awkwardness  of  meeting  Miss  Keene 
after  the  transfer  of  his  affections  elsewhere.  Nor  was 
his  embarrassment  relieved  by  Crosby's  confidences  to 
him,  in  a  half  audible  whisper,  — 

"  I  say,  old  man,  after  all,  the  regular  straight-out 
American  style  lays  over  all  their  foreign  flops  and  fan- 


2O2         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

doodles.  I  wonder  what  old  Brimmer  would  say  to  his 
wife's  full-dress  nightgown  —  eh  ?  " 

But  at  this  moment  the  long-drawn,  slightly  stridulous 
utterances  of  Mrs.  Brimmer  rose  through  the  other  greet- 
ings like  a  lazy  east  wind. 

"  I  shall  never  forgive  the  Commander  for  making  the 
Presidio  so  attractive  to  you,  dear  Miss  Keene,  that  you 
cannot  really  find  time  to  see  your  own  countrymen. 
Though,  of  course,  you  're  not  to  blame  for  not  coming 
to  see  two  frights  as  we  must  look  —  not  having  been 
educated  to  be  able  to  do  up  our  dresses  in  that  faultless 
style  —  and  perhaps  not  having  the  entire  control  over 
an  establishment  like  you ;  yet,  I  suppose  that,  even  if 
the  Alcalde  did  give  us  carte  blanche  of  the  laundry  here, 
we  could  n't  do  it,  unaided  even  by  Mrs.  Markham.  Yes, 
dear;  you  must  let  me  compliment  you  on  your  skill, 
and  the  way  you  make  things  last.  As  for  me  and  Miss 
Chubb,  we  've  only  found  our  things  fit  to  be  given  away 
to  the  poor  of  the  Mission.  But  I  suppose  even  that 
charity  would  look  as  shabby  to  you  as  our  clothes,  in 
comparison  with  the  really  good  missionary  work  you 
and  Mr.  Hurlstone  —  or  is  it  Mr.  Brace  ?  —  I  always  con- 
found your  admirers,  my  dear  —  are  doing  now.  At 
least,  so  says  that  good  Father  Esteban." 

But  with  the  exception  of  the  Alcalde  and  Miss  Chubb, 
Mrs.  Brimmer's  words  fell  on  unheeding  ears,  and  Miss 
Keene  did  not  prejudice  the  triumph  of  her  own  superior 
attractions  by  seeming  to  notice  Mrs.  Brimmer's  in- 
nuendo. She  answered  briefly,  and  entered  into  lively 
conversation  with  Crosby  and  the  Secretary,  holding  the 
hand  of  Dona  Isabel  in  her  own,  as  if  to  assure  her  that 
she  was  guiltless  of  any  design  against  her  former  ad- 
mirer. This  was  quite  unnecessary,  as  the  gentle  Isabel, 
after  bidding  Brace,  with  a  rap  on  the  knuckles,  to  "  go 
and  play,"  contented  herself  with  curling  up  like  a  kitten 


Clouds  and  Change.  203 

beside  Miss  Keene,  and  left  that  gentleman  to  wander 
somewhat  aimlessly  in  the  patio. 

Nevertheless,  Miss  Keene,  whose  eyes  and  ears  were 
nervously  alert,  and  who  had  indulged  a  faint  hope  of 
meeting  Padre  Esteban  and  hearing  news  of  Hurlstone, 
glanced  from  time  to  time  towards  the  entrance  of  the 
patio.  A  singular  presentiment  that  some  outcome  of 
this  present  visit  would  determine  her  relations  with 
Hurlstone  had  already  possessed  her.  Consequently  she 
was  conscious,  before  it  had  attracted  the  attention  of  the 
others,  of  some  vague  stirring  in  the  plaza  beyond.  Sud- 
denly the  clatter  of  hoofs  was  heard  before  the  gateway. 
There  was  a  moment's  pause  of  dismounting,  a  gruff 
order  given  in  Spanish,  and  the  next  moment  three  stran- 
gers entered  the  patio. 

They  were  dressed  in  red  shirts,  their  white  trousers 
tucked  in  high  boots,  and  wore  slouched  hats.  They 
were  so  travel-stained,  dusty,  and  unshaven,  that  their 
features  were  barely  distinguishable.  One,  who  appeared 
to  be  the  spokesman  of  the  party,  cast  a  perfunctory 
glance  around  the  corridor,  and,  in  fluent  Spanish,  began 
with  the  mechanical  air  of  a  man  repeating  some  for- 
mula, — 

"  We  are  the  bearers  of  a  despatch  to  the  Comandante 
of  Todos  Santos  from  the  Governor  of  Mazatlan.  The 
officer  and  the  escort  who  came  with  us  are  outside  the 
gate.  We  have  been  told  that  the  Comandante  is  in  this 
house.  The  case  is  urgent,  or  we  would  not  intrude  "  — 

He  was  stopped  by  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Markham  from 
the  corridor.  "  Well,  I  don't  understand  Spanish  much 
—  I  may  be  a  fool,  or  crazy,  or  perhaps  both  —  but  if 
that  is  n't  James  Markham's  voice,  I  '11  bet  a  cooky !  " 

The  three  strangers  turned  quickly  toward  the  corridor. 
The  next  moment  the  youngest  of  their  party  advanced 
eagerly  towards  Miss  Keene,  who  had  arisen  with  a  half 


204         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

frightened  joy,  and  with  the  cry  of  "  Why,  it 's  Nell ! " 
ran  towards  her.  The  third  man  came  slowly  forward  as 
Mrs.  Brimmer  slipped  hastily  from  the  hammock  and 
stood  erect. 

"  In  the  name  of  goodness,  Barbara,"  said  Mr.  Brim- 
mer, closing  upon  her,  in  a  slow,  portentous  whisper, 
"  where  are  your  stockings  ?  " 


CHAPTER  VI. 

A   MORE   IMPORTANT  ARRIVAL. 

THE  Commander  was  the  first  to  recover  his  presence 
of  mind.  Taking  the  despatch  from  the  hands  of  the 
unlooked-for  husband  of  the  woman  he  loved,  he  opened 
it  with  an  immovable  face  and  habitual  precision.  Then, 
turning  with  a  military  salute  to  the  strangers,  he  bade 
them  join  him  in  half  an  hour  at  the  Presidio ;  and,  bow- 
ing gravely  to  the  assembled  company,  stepped  from  the 
corridor.  But  Mrs.  Markham  was  before  him,  stopped 
him  with  a  gesture,  and  turned  to  her  husband. 

"  James  Markham  —  where  's  your  hand  ?  " 

Markham,  embarrassed  but  subjugated,  disengaged  it 
timidly  from  his  wife's  waist. 

"Give  it  to  that  gentleman — for  a  gentleman  he  is, 
from  the  crown  of  his  head  to  the  soles  of  his  boots ! 
There  !  Shake  his  hand  !  You  don't  get  such  a  chance 
every  day.  You  can  thank  him  again,  later." 

As  the  two  men's  hands  parted,  after  this  perfunctory 
grasp,  and  the  Commander  passed  on,  she  turned  again 
to  her  husband. 

"  Now,  James,  I  am  ready  to  hear  all  about  it.  Per- 
haps you  '11  tell  me  where  you  have  been  ?  " 

There  was  a  moment  of  embarrassing  silence.  The 
Doctor  and  Secretary  had  discreetly  withdrawn ;  the 
Alcalde,  after  a  brief  introduction  to  Mr.  Brimmer,  and 
an  incomprehensible  glance  from  the  wife,  had  retired 
with  a  colorless  face.  Dona  Isabel  had  lingered  last  to 
blow  a  kiss  across  her  fan  to  Eleanor  Keene  that  half 


206         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

mischievously  included  her  brother.  The  Americans  were 
alone. 

Thus  appealed  to,  Mr.  Markham  hastily  began  his 
story.  But,  as  he  progressed,  a  slight  incoherency  was 
noticeable  :  he  occasionally  contradicted  himself,  and  was 
obliged  to  be  sustained,  supplemented,  and,  at  times, 
corrected,  by  Keene  and  Brimmer.  Substantially,  it  ap- 
peared that  they  had  come  from  San  Francisco  to  Ma- 
zatlan,  and,  through  the  influence  of  Mr.  Brimmer  on 
the  Mexican  authorities,  their  party,  with  an  escort  of 
dragoons,  had  been  transported  across  the  gulf  and 
landed  on  the  opposite  shore,  where  they  had  made  a 
forced  march  across  the  desert  to  Todos  Santos.  Lit- 
erally interpreted,  however,  by  the  nervous  Markham,  it 
would  seem  that  they  had  conceived  this  expedition  long 
ago,  and  yet  had  difficulties  because  they  only  thought 
of  it  the  day  before  the  steamer  sailed  ;  that  they  had 
embarked  for  the  isthmus  of  Nicaragua,  and  yet  had 
stopped  at  Mazatlan ;  that  their  information  was  com- 
plete in  San  Francisco,  and  only  picked  up  at  Mazatlan ; 
that  "  friends "  —  sometimes  contradictorily  known  as 
"he"  and  "she"  —  had  overpowering  influence  with  the 
Mexican  Government,  and  alone  had  helped  them,  and 
yet  that  they  were  utterly  dependent  upon  the  efforts  of 
Serior  Perkins,  who  had  compromised  matters  with*  the 
Mexican  Government  and  everybody. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,  James  Markham,  that  you  've 
seen  Perkins,  and  it  was  he  who  told  you  we  were 
here  ? " 

"  No  —  not  him  exactly." 

"Let  me  explain,"  said  Mr.  Brimmer  hastily.  "It 
appears,"  he  corrected  his  haste  with  practical  business- 
like precision,  "  that  the  filibuster  Perkins,  after  debark- 
ing you  here,  and  taking  the  Excelsior  to  Quinquinambo, 
actually  established  the  Quinquinambo  Government,  and 


A  More  Important  Arrival.         207 

got  Mexico  and  the  other  confederacies  to  recognize  its 
independence.  Quinquinambo  behaved  very  handsomely, 
and  not  only  allowed  the  Mexican  Government  indemnity 
for  breaking  the  neutrality  of  Todos  Santos  by  the  seiz- 
ure, but  even  compromised  with  our  own  Government 
their  claim  to  confiscate  the  Excelsior  for  treaty  violation, 
and  paid  half  the  value  of  the  vessel,  besides  giving  infor- 
mation to  Mexico  and  Washington  of  your  whereabouts. 
We  consequently  represent  a  joint  commission  from 
both  countries  to  settle  the  matter  and  arrange  for 
your  return." 

"  But  what  I  want  to  know  is  this :  Is  it  to  Senor 
Perkins  that  we  ought  to  be  thankful  for  seeing  you  here 
at  all  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Markham  impatiently. 

"No,  no  —  not  that,  exactly,"  stammered  Markham. 
"Oh,  come  now,  Susannah"  — 

"  No,"  said  Richard  Keene  earnestly  ;  "  by  Jove  ! 
some  thanks  ought  to  go  to  Belle  Montgomery  "  —  He 
checked  himself  in  sudden  consternation. 

There  was  a  chilly  silence.  Even  Miss  Keene  looked 
anxiously  at  her  brother,  as  the  voice  of  Mrs.  Brimmer 
for  the  first  time  broke  the  silence. 

"  May  we  be  permitted  to  know  who  is  this  person  to 
whom  we  owe  so  great  an  obligation  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  Brimmer.  "  She  was  —  as  I  have 
already  intimated  —  a  friend  j  possibly,  you  know,"  he 
added,  turning  lightly  to  his  companions,  as  if  to  cor- 
roborate an  impression  that  had  just  struck  him,  "  per- 
haps a  —  a  —  a  sweetheart  of  the  Senor  Perkins." 

"  And  how  was  she  so  interested  in  us,  pray  ? "  said 
Mrs.  Markham. 

"  Well,  you  see,  she  had  an  idea  that  a  former  husband 
was  on  board  of  the  Excelsior." 

He  stopped  suddenly,  remembering  from  the  astonished 
faces  of  Keene  and  Markham  that  the  secret  was  not 


208         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

known  to  them,  while  they,  impressed  with  the  belief  that 
the  story  was  a  sudden  invention  of  Brimmer's,  with 
difficulty  preserved  their  composure.  But  the  women 
were  quick  to  notice  their  confusion,  and  promptly  dis- 
believed Brimmer's  explanation. 

"  Well,  as  there  's  no  Mister  Montgomery  here,  she  's 
probably  mistaken,"  said  Mrs.  Markham,  with  decision, 
"  though  it  strikes  me  that  she 's  very  likely  had  the  same 
delusion  on  board  of  some  other  ship.  Come  along, 
James ;  perhaps  after  you  Ve  had  a  bath  and  some  clean 
clothes,  you  may  come  out  a  little  more  like  the  man  I 
once  knew.  I  don't  know  how  Mrs.  Brimmer  feels,  but  I 
feel  more  as  if  I  required  to  be  introduced  to  you  —  than 
your  friend's  friend,  Mrs.  Montgomery.  At  any  rate,  try 
and  look  and  behave  a  little  more  decent  when  you  go 
over  to  the  Presidio." 

With  these  words  she  dragged  him  away.  Mr.  Brim- 
mer, after  a  futile  attempt  to  appear  at  his  ease,  promptly 
effected  the  usual  marital  diversion  of  carrying  the  war 
into  the  enemy's  camp. 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  Barbara,"  he  said,  with  ostenta- 
tious indignation,  "go  and  dress  yourself  properly.  Had 
you  neither  money  nor  credit  to  purchase  clothes?  I 
declare  I  did  n't  know  you  at  first ;  and  when  I  did,  I 
was  shocked  ;  before  Mrs.  Markham,  too  !  " 

"  Mrs.  Markham,  I  fear,  has  quite  enough  to  occupy 
her  now,"  said  Mrs.  Brimmer  shortly,  as  she  turned  away, 
with  hysterically  moist  eyes,  leaving  her  husband  to 
follow  her. 

Oblivious  of  this  comedy,  Richard  Keene  and  Eleanor 
had  already  wandered  back,  hand  in  hand,  to  their  days 
of  childhood.  But  even  in  the  joy  that  filled  the  young 
girl's  heart  in  the  presence  of  her  only  kinsman,  there 
was  a  strange  reservation.  The  meeting  that  she  had 
looked  forward  to  with  eager  longing  had  brought  all  she 


A  More  Important  Arrival.          209 

expected  ;  more  than  that,  it  seemed  to  have  been  provi- 
dentially anticipated  at  the  moment  of  her  greatest  need, 
and  yet  it  was  incomplete.  She  was  ashamed  that  after 
the  first  recognition,  a  wild  desire  to  run  to  Hurlstone 
and  tell  him  her  happiness  was  her  only  thought.  She 
was  shocked  that  the  bright  joyous  face  of  this  handsome 
lovable  boy  could  not  shut  out  the  melancholy  austere 
features  of  Hurlstone,  which  seemed  to  rise  reproachfully 
between  them.  When,  for  the  third  and  fourth  time,  they 
had  recounted  their  past  history,  exchanged  their  confi- 
dences and  feelings,  Dick,  passing  his  arm  around  his 
sister's  waist,  looked  down  smilingly  in  her  eyes. 

"And  so,  after  all,  little  Nell,  everybody  has  been 
good  to  you,  and  you  have  been  happy ! " 

"Everybody  has  been  kind  to  me,  Dick,  far  kinder 
than  I  deserved.  Even  if  I  had  really  been  the  great 
lady  that  little  Dona  Isabel  thought  I  was,  or  the  impor- 
tant person  the  Commander  believed  me  to  be,  I  could  n't 
have  been  treated  more  kindly.  I  have  met  with  nothing 
but  respect  and  attention.  I  have  been  very  happy, 
Dick,  very  happy." 

And  with  a  little  cry  she  threw  herself  on  her  brother's 
neck  and  burst  into  a  childlike  flood  of  inconsistent  tears. 

Meantime  the  news  of  the  arrival  of  the  relief-party 
had  penetrated  even  the  peaceful  cloisters  of  the  Mission, 
and  Father  Esteban  had  been  summoned  in  haste  to  the 
Council.  He  returned  with  an  eager  face  to  Hurlstone, 
who  had  been  anxiously  awaiting  him.  When  the  Padre 
had  imparted  the  full  particulars  of  the  event  to  his  com- 
panion, he  added  gravely,  — 

"You  see,  my  son,  how  Providence,  which  has  pro- 
tected you  since  you  first  claimed  the  Church's  sanctuary, 
has  again  interfered  to  spare  me  the  sacrifice  of  using  the 
power  of  the  Church  in  purely  mundane  passions.  I 
meekly  accept  the  rebuke  of  His  better-ordained  ways, 


2io         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

and  you,  Diego,  may  comfort  yourself  that  this  girl  is 
restored  directly  to  her  brother's  care,  without  any  de- 
viousness  of  plan  or  human  responsibility.  You  do  not 
speak,  my  son  !  "  continued  the  priest  anxiously ;  "  can  it 
be  possible  that,  in  the  face  of  this  gracious  approval  of 
Providence  to  your  resolution,  you  are  regretting  it  ? " 

The  young  man  replied,  with  a  half  reproachful  ges- 
ture : 

"  Do  you,  then,  think  me  still  so  weak  ?  No,  Father 
Esteban ;  I  have  steeled  myself  against  my  selfishness 
for  her  sake.  I  could  have  resigned  her  to  the  escape 
you  had  planned,  believing  her  happier  for  it,  and  ig- 
norant of  the  real  condition  of  the  man  she  had  learnt  to 
—  to  —  pity.  But,"  he  added,  turning  suddenly  and 
almost  rudely  upon  the  priest,  "  do  you  know  the  mean- 
ing of  this  irruption  of  the  outer  world  to  me  ?  Do  you 
reflect  that  these  men  probably  know  my  miserable 
story  ?  —  that,  as  one  of  the  passengers  of  the  Excelsior, 
they  will  be  obliged  to  seek  me  and  to  restore  me,"  he 
added,  with  a  bitter  laugh,  "  to  my  home,  my  kindred  — 
to  the  world  I  loathe  ?  " 

"  But  you  need  not  follow  them.     Remain  here." 

"  Here!  —  with  the  door  thrown  open  to  any  talebearer 
or  perhaps  to  my  wife  herselfl  Never !  Hear  me, 
Father,"  he  went  on  hurriedly :  "  these  men  have  come 
from  San  Francisco  —  have  been  to  Mazatlan.  Can  you 
believe  that  it  is  possible  that  they  have  never  heard  of 
this  woman's  search  for  me  ?  No  !  The  quest  of  hate 
is  as  strong  as  the  quest  of  love,  and  more  merciless  to 
the  hunted." 

"  But  if  that  were  so,  foolish  boy,  she  would  have  ac- 
companied them." 

"  You  are  wrong  !  It  would  have  been  enough  for  her 
to  have  sent  my  exposure  by  them  —  to  have  driven  me 
from  this  refuge." 


A  More  Important  Arrival.          211 

"  This  is  but  futile  fancy,  Diego,"  said  Father  Esteban, 
with  a  simulated  assurance  he  was  far  from  feeling. 
"  Nothing  has  yet  been  said  —  nothing  may  be  said. 
Wait,  my  child." 

"  Wait !  "  he  echoed  bitterly.  "  Ay,  wait  until  the  poor 
girl  shall  hear  —  perhaps  from  her  brother's  lips  —  the 
story  of  my  marriage  as  bandied  about  by  others  ;  wait 
for  her  to  know  that  the  man  who  would  have  made  her 
love  him  was  another's,  and  unworthy  of  her  respect? 
No !  it  is  /who  must  leave  this  place,  and  at  once." 

"  You  ?  "  echoed  the  Padre.     "  How  ?  " 

"  By  the  same  means  you  would  have  used  for  her  de- 
parture. I  must  take  her  place  in  that  ship  you  are  ex- 
pecting. You  will  give  me  letters  to  your  friends.  Per- 
haps, when  this  is  over,  I  may  return  —  if  I  still  live." 

Padre  Esteban  became  thoughtful. 

"  You  will  not  refuse  me  ? "  said  the  young  man,  taking 
the  Padre's  hand.  "  It  is  for  the  best,  believe  me.  I 
will  remain  secret  here  until  then.  You  will  invent  some 
excuse  —  illness,  or  what  you  like  —  to  keep  them  from 
penetrating  here.  Above  all,  to  spare  me  from  the  misery 
of  ever  reading  my  secret  in  her  face." 

Father  Esteban  remained  still  absorbed  in  thought. 

"You  will  take  a  letter  from  me  to  the  Archbishop, 
and  put  yourself  under  his  care  ?  "  he  asked  at  last,  after 
a  long  pause.  "  You  will  promise  me  that  ? " 

"  I  do  !  " 

"Then  we  shall  see  what  can  be  done.  They  talk, 
those  Americanos,"  continued  the  priest,  "of  making 
their  v/ay  up  the  coast  to  Punta  St.  Jago,  where  the  ship 
they  have  already  sent  for  to  take  them  away  can  ap- 
proach the  shore ;  and  the  Comandante  has  orders  to 
furnish  them  escort  and  transport  to  that  point.  It  is  a 
foolish  indiscretion  of  the  Government,  and  I  warrant 
without  the  sanction  of  the  Church.  Already  there  is 


212         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

curiosity,  discontent,  and  wild  talk  among  the  people. 
Ah  !  thou  sayest  truly,  my  son,"  said  the  old  man,  gloom- 
ily ;  "the  doors  of  Todos  Santos  are  open.  The  Co- 
mandante  will  speed  these  heretics  quickly  on  their  way  ; 
but  the  doors^  by  which  they  came  and  whence  they  go 
will  never  close  again.  But  God's  will  be  done  !  And  if 
the  open  doors  bring  thee  back,  my  son,  I  shall  not  ques- 
tion His  will  ! " 

It  would  seem,  however,  as  if  Hurlstone's  fears  had 
been  groundless.  For  in  the  excitement  of  the  succeed- 
ing days,  and  the  mingling  of  the  party  from  San  Antonio 
with  the  new-comers,  the  recluse  had  been  forgotten.  So 
habitual  had  been  his  isolation  from  the  others,  that,  ex- 
cept for  the  words  of  praise  and  gratitude  hesitatingly 
dropped  by  Miss  Keene  to  her  brother,  his  name  was  not 
mentioned,  and  it  might  have  been  possible  for  the  reliev- 
ing party  to  have  left  him  behind  —  unnoticed.  Mr. 
Brimmer,  for  domestic  reasons,  was  quite  willing  to  allow 
the  episode  of  Miss  Montgomery's  connection  with  their 
expedition  to  drop  for  the  present.  Her  name  was  only 
recalled  once  by  Miss  Keene.  When  Dick  had  professed 
a  sudden  and  violent  admiration  for  the  coquettish  Dona 
Isabel,  Eleanor  had  looked  up  in  her  brother's  face  with 
a  half  troubled  air. 

"  Who  was  this  queer  Montgomery  woman,  Dick  ? " 
she  said. 

Dick  laughed  —  a  frank,  reassuring,  heart-free  laugh. 

"  Perfectly  stunning,  Nell.  Such  a  figure  in  tights  ! 
You  ought  to  have  seen  her  dance  —  my  !  " 

"  Hush  !     I  dare  say  she  was  horrid  !  " 

"  Not  at  all !  She  was  n't  such  a  bad  fellow,  if  you  left 
out  her  poetry  and  gush,  which  I  did  n't  go  in  for  much, 
—  though  the  other  fellows  "  —  he  stopped,  from  a  sudden 
sense  of  loyalty  to  Brimmer  and  Markham.  "  No  ;  you 
see,  Nell,  she  was  regularly  ridiculously  struck  after  that 


A  More  Important  Arrival.         213 

man  Perkins,  —  whom  she  'd  never  seen,  —  a  kind  of 
schoolgirl  worship  for  a  pirate.  You  know  how  you 
women  go  in  for  those  fellows  with  a .  mystery  about 
'em." 

"  No,  I  don't  !  "  said  Miss  Keene  sharply,  with  a  slight 
rise  of  color ;  "  and  I  don't  see  what  that 's  got  to  do 
with  you  and  her." 

"  Everything  !  She  was  in  correspondence  with  Per- 
kins, and  knows  about  the  Excelsior  affair,  and  wants  to 
help  him  get  out  of  it  with  clean  hands,  don't  you  see  ! 
That 's  why  she  made  up  to  us.  There,  Nell ;  she  ain't 
your  style,  of  course  ;  but  you  owe  a  heap  to  her  for  giv- 
ing us  points  as  to  where  you  were.  But  that 's  all  over 
now  ;  she  left  us  at  Mazatlan,  and  went  on  to  Nicaragua 
to  meet  Perkins  somewhere  there  —  for  the  fellow  has 
always  got  some  Central  American  revolution  on  hand, 
it  appears.  Until  they  garrote  or  shoot  him  some  day, 
he  '11  go  on  in  the  liberating  business  forever." 

"  Then  there  was  n't  any  Mr.  Montgomery,  of  course  ? " 
said  Eleanor. 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Montgomery,"  said  Dick,  hesitating.  "Well, 
you  see,  Nell,  I  think  that,  knowing  how  correct  and  all 
that  sort  of  thing  Brimmer  is,  she  sort  of  invented  the 
husband  to  make  her  interest  look  more  proper." 

"  It 's  shameful !  "  said  Miss  Keene  indignantly. 

"  Come,  Nell ;  one  would  think  you  had  a  personal 
dislike  to  her.  Let  her  go ;  she  won't  trouble  you  — 
nor,  I  reckon,  anybody,  much  longer." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Dick  ?  " 

"  I  mean  she  has  regularly  exhausted  and  burnt  her- 
self out  with  her  hysterics  and  excitements,  and  the  drugs 
she's  taken  to  subdue  them  —  to  say  nothing  of  the 
Panama  fever  she  got  last  spring.  If  she  don't  go  regu- 
larly crazy  at  last  she  '11  have  another  attack  of  fever, 
hanging  round  the  isthmus  waiting  for  Perkins." 


214         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Meanwhile,  undisturbed  by  excitement  or  intrusion  of 
the  outer  world,  the  days  had  passed  quietly  at  the  Mis- 
sion. But  one  evening,  at  twilight,  a  swift-footed,  lightly- 
clad  Indian  glided  into  the  sacristy  as  if  he  had  slipped 
from  the  outlying  fog,  and  almost  immediately  as  quietly 
glided  away  again  and  disappeared.  The  next  moment 
Father  Esteban's  gaunt  and  agitated  face  appeared  at 
Hurlstone's  door. 

"  My  son,  God  has  been  merciful,  and  cut  short  your 
probation.  The  signal  of  the  ship  has  just  been  made. 
Her  boat  will  be  waiting  on  the  beach  two  leagues  from 
here  an  hour  hence.  Are  you  ready  ?  and  are  you  still 
resolved  ?  " 

"  I  am,"  said  Hurlstone,  rising.  "  I  have  been  pre- 
pared since  you  first  assented." 

The  old  man's  lips  quivered  slightly,  and  the  great 
brown  hand  laid  upon  the  table  trembled  for  an  instant ; 
with  a  strong  effort  he  recovered  himself,  and  said  hur- 
riedly, — 

"  Concho's  mule  is  saddled  and  ready  for  you  at  the 
foot  of  the  garden.  You  will  follow  the  beach  a  league 
beyond  the  Indians'  cross.  In  the  boat  will  await  you  the 
trusty  messenger  of  the  Church.  You  will  say  to  him, 
'  Guadalajara,'  and  give  him  these  letters.  One  is  to  the 
captain.  You  will  require  no  other  introduction."  He 
laid  the  papers  on  the  table,  and,  turning  to  Hurlstone, 
lifted  his  tremulous  hands  in  the  air.  "  And  now,  my 
son,  may  the  grace  of  God  "  — 

He  faltered  and  stopped,  his  uplifted  arms  falling  help- 
lessly on  Hurlstone's  shoulders.  For  an  instant  the 
young  man  supported  him  in  his  arms,  then  placed  him 
gently  in  the  chair  he  had  just  quitted,  and  for  the  first 
time  in  their  intimacy  dropped  upon  his  knee  before  him. 
The  old  man,  with  a  faint  smile,  placed  his  hand  upon  his 
companion's  head.  A  breathless  pause  followed  ;  Father 


A  More  Important  Arrival.         215 

Esteban's  lips  moved  silently.  Suddenly  the  young  man 
rose,  pressed  his  lips  hurriedly  to  the  Father's  hand,  and 
passed  out  into  the  night. 

The  moon  was  already  suffusing  the  dropping  veil  of 
fog  above  him  with  that  nebulous,  mysterious  radiance  he 
had  noticed  the  first  night  he  had  approached  the  Mis- 
sion. When  he  reached  the  cross  he  dismounted,  and 
gathering  a  few  of  the  sweet-scented  blossoms  that  crept 
around  its  base,  placed  them  in  his  breast.  Then,  re- 
mounting, he  continued  his  way  until  he  came  to  the  spot 
designated  by  Concho  as  a  fitting  place  to  leave  his  teth- 
ered mule.  This  done,  he  proceeded  on  foot  about  a 
mile  further  along  the  hard,  wet  sand,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
the  narrow  strip  of  water  and  shore  before  him  that  was 
yet  uninvaded  by  the  fog  on  either  side. 

The  misty,  nebulous  light,  the  strange  silence,  broken 
only  by  the  occasional  low  hurried  whisper  of  some  spent 
wave  that  sent  its  film  of  spume  across  his  path,  or  filled 
his  footprints  behind  him,  possessed  him  with  vague 
presentiments  and  imaginings.  At  times  he  fancied  he 
heard  voices  at  his  side;  at  times  indistinct  figures 
loomed  through  the  mist  before  him.  At  last  what 
seemed  to  be  his  own  shadow  faintly  impinged  upon  the 
mist  at  one  side  impressed  him  so  strongly  that  he 
stopped  ;  the  apparition  stopped  too.  Continuing  a  few 
hundred  paces  further,  he  stopped  again ;  but  this  time 
the  ghostly  figure  passed  on,  and  convinced  him  that  it 
was  no  shadow,  but  some  one  actually  following  him. 
With  an  angry  challenge  he  advanced  towards  it.  It 
quickly  retreated  inland,  and  was  lost.  Irritated  and 
suspicious  he  turned  back  towards  the  water,  and  was 
amazed  to  see  before  him,  not  twenty  yards  away,  the 
object  of  his  quest  —  a  boat,  with  two  men  in  it,  kept  in 
position  by  the  occasional  lazy  dip  of  an  oar.  In  the 
pursuit  of  his  mysterious  shadow  he  had  evidently  over- 


216         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

looked  it.  As  his  own  figure  emerged  from  the  fog,  the 
boat  pulled  towards  him.  The  priest's  password  was 
upon  his  lips,  when  he  perceived  that  the  two  men  were 
common  foreign  sailors  j  the  messenger  of  the  Church 
was  evidently  not  there.  Could  it  have  been  he  who 
had  haunted  him?  He  paused  irresolutely.  "Is  there 
none  other  coming?"  he  asked.  The  two  men  looked 
at  each  other.  One  said,  "  Quien  sabe  ! "  and  shrugged 
his  shoulders.  Hurlstone  without  further  hesitation 
leaped  aboard. 

The  same  dull  wall  of  vapor — at  times  thickening 
to  an  almost  impenetrable  barrier,  and  again  half  suffo- 
cating him  in  its  soft  embrace  —  which  he  had  breasted 
on  the  night  he  swam  ashore,  carried  back  his  thoughts 
to  that  time,  now  so  remote  and  unreal.  And  when, 
after  a  few  moments'  silent  rowing,  the  boat  approached 
a  black  hulk  that  seemed  to  have  started  forward  out  of 
the  gloom  to  meet  them,  his  vague  recollection  began  to 
take  a  more  definite  form.  As  he  climbed  up  the  com- 
panion-ladder and  boarded  the  vessel,  an  inexplicable 
memory  came  over  him.  A  petty  officer  on  the  gangway 
advanced  silently  and  ushered  him,  half  dazed  and  be- 
wildered, into  the  cabin.  He  glanced  hurriedly  around  : 
the  door  of  a  state-room  opened,  and  disclosed  the  in- 
domitable and  affable  Sefior  Perkins !  A  slight  expres- 
sion of  surprise,  however,  crossed  the  features  of  the 
Liberator  of  Quinquinambo  as  he  advanced  with  out- 
stretched hand. 

"  This  is  really  a  surprise,  my  dear  fellow  !  I  had  no 
idea  that  you  were  in  this  affair.  But  I  am  delighted  to 
welcome  you  once  more  to  the  Excelsior !  " 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   RETURN   OF   THE   EXCELSIOR. 

AMAZED  and  disconcerted,  Hurlstone,  nevertheless,  re- 
tained his  presence  of  mind. 

"  There  must  be  some  mistake,"  he  said  coolly  ;  "  I  am 
certainly  not  the  person  you  seem  to  be  expecting." 

"  Were  you  not  sent  here  by  Winslow  ? "  demanded 
Perkins. 

"  No.  The  person  you  are  looking  for  is  probably  one 
I  saw  on  the  shore.  He  no  doubt  became  alarmed  at  my 
approach,  and  has  allowed  me  quite  unwittingly  to  take 
his  place  in  the  boat." 

Perkins  examined  Hurlstone  keenly  for  a  moment, 
stepped  to  the  door,  gave  a  brief  order,  and  returned. 

"  Then,  if  you  did  not  intend  the  honor  of  this  visit  for 
me,"  he  resumed,  with  a  smile,  "  may  I  ask,  my  dear  fel- 
low, whom  you  expected  to  meet,  and  on  what  ship  ? 
There  are  not  so  many  at  Todos  Santos,  if  my  memory 
serves  me  right,  as  to  create  confusion." 

"  I  must  decline  to  answer  that  question,"  said  Hurl- 
stone  curtly. 

The  Senor  smiled,  with  an  accession  of  his  old  gentle- 
ness. 

"  My  dear  young  friend,"  he  said,  "  have  you  forgotten 
that  on  a  far  more  important  occasion  to  you,  I  showed 
no  desire  to  pry  into  your  secret  ? "  Hurlstone  made  a 
movement  of  deprecation.  "  Nor  have  I  any  such  desire 
now.  But  for  the  sake  of  our  coming  to  an  understanding 
as  friends,  let  me  answer  the  question  for  you.  You  are 


2 1 8         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

here,  my  dear  fellow,  as  a  messenger  from  the  Mission  of 
Todos  Santos  to  the  Ecclesiastical  Commission  from 
Guadalajara,  whose  ship  touches  here  every  three  years. 
It  is  now  due.  You  have  mistaken  this  vessel  for 
theirs." 

Hurlstone  remained  silent. 

"  It  is  no  secret,"  continued  Senor  Perkins  blandly;  "  nor 
shall  I  pretend  to  conceal  my  purpose  here,  which  is  on  the 
invitation  of  certain  distressed  patriots  of  Todos  Santos, 
to  assist  them  in  their  deliverance  from  the  effete  tyranny 
of  the  Church  and  its  Government.  I  have  been  fortunate 
enough  to  anticipate  the  arrival  of  your  vessel,  as  you  were 
fortunate  enough  to  anticipate  the  arrival  of  my  messenger. 
I  am  doubly  fortunate,  as  it  gives  me  the  pleasure  of  your 
company  this  evening,  and  necessitates  no  further  trouble 
than  the  return  of  the  boat  for  the  other  gentleman  —  which 
has  already  gone.  Doubtless  you  may  know  him." 

"  I  must  warn  you  again,  Senor  Perkins,"  said  Hurl- 
stone  sternly,  "  that  I  have  no  connection  with  any  polit- 
ical party ;  nor  have  I  any  sympathy  with  your  purpose 
against  the  constituted  authorities." 

"  I  am  willing  to  believe  that  you  have  no  political  affini- 
ties at  all,  my  dear  Mr.  Hurlstone,"  returned  Perkins,  with 
unruffled  composure,  "and,  consequently,  we  will  not  argue 
as  to  what  is  the  constituted  authority  of  Todos  Santos. 
Perhaps  to-morrow  it  may  be  on  board  this  ship,  and  I  may 
still  have  the  pleasure  of  making  you  at  home  here  !  " 

"  Until  then,"  said  Hurlstone  dryly,  "  at  least  you  will 
allow  me  to  repair  my  error  by  returning  to  the  shore." 

"  For  the  moment  I  hardly  think  it  would  be  wise," 
replied  Perkins  gently.  "  Allowing  that  you  escaped 
the  vigilance  of  my  friends  on  the  shore,  whose  sus- 
picions you  have  aroused,  and  who  might  do  you  some 
injury,  you  would  feel  it  your  duty  to  inform  those  who 
sent  you  of  the  presence  of  my  ship,  and  thus  precipitate 


The  Return  of  the  Excelsior.         2 1 9 

a  collision  between  my  friends  and  yours,  which  would  be 
promotive  of  ill-feeling,  and  perhaps  bloodshed.  You 
know  my  peaceful  disposition,  Mr.  Hurlstone ;  you  can 
hardly  expect  me  to  countenance  an  act  of  folly  that 
would  be  in  violation  of  it." 

"  In  other  words,  having  decoyed  me  here  on  board 
your  ship,  you  intend  to  detain  me,"  said  Hurlstone  in- 
sultingly. 

"  '  Decoy,'  "  said  Perkins,  in  gentle  deprecation,  "  '  de- 
coy '  is  hardly  the  word  I  expected  from  a  gentleman  who 
has  been  so  unfortunate  as  to  take,  unsolicited  and  of  his 
own  free  will,  another  person's  place  in  a  boat.  But," 
he  continued,  assuming  an  easy  argumentative  attitude, 
"  let  us  look  at  it  from  your  view-point.  Let  us  imagine 
that  your  ship  had  anticipated  mine,  and  that  my  mes- 
senger had  unwittingly  gone  on  board  of  her.  What  do 
you  think  they  would  have  done  to  him  ? " 

"  They  would  have  hung  him  at  the  yard-arm,  as  he 
deserved,"  said  Hurlstone  unflinchingly. 

"  You  are  wrong,"  said  Perkins  gently.  "  They  would 
have  given  him  the  alternative  of  betraying  his  trust,  and 
confessing  everything  —  which  he  would  probably  have 
accepted.  Pardon  me  !  —  this  is  no  insinuation  against 
you,"  he  interrupted,  —  "  but  I  regret  to  say  that  my  ex- 
perience with  the  effete  Latin  races  of  this  continent  has 
not  inspired  me  with  confidence  in  their  loyalty  to  trust. 
Let  me  give  you  an  instance,"  he  continued,  smiling  : 
"  the  ship  you  are  expecting  is  supposed  to  be  an  invio- 
lable secret  of  the  Church,  but  it  is  known  to  me  —  to  my 
friends  ashore  —  and  even  to  you,  my  poor  friend,  a  here- 
tic !  More  than  that,  I  am  told  that  the  Comandante, 
the  Padre,  and  Alcalde  are  actually  arranging  to  deport 
some  of  the  American  women  by  this  vessel,  which  has 
been  hitherto  sacred  to  the  emissaries  of  the  Church 
alone.  But  you  probably  know  this  —  it  is  doubtless 


220         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

part  of  your  errand.  I  only  mention  it  to  convince  you 
that  I  have  certainly  no  need  either  to  know  your  secrets, 
to  hang  you  from  the  yard-arm  if  you  refused  to  give 
them  up,  or  to  hold  you  as  hostage  for  my  messenger, 
who,  as  I  have  shown  you,  can  take  care  of  himself.  I 
shall  not  ask  you  for  that  secret  despatch  you  undoubt- 
edly carry  next  your  heart,  because  I  don't  want  it.  You 
are  at  liberty  to  keep  it  until  you  can  deliver  it,  or  drop 
it  out  of  that  port-hole  into  the  sea  —  as  you  choose. 
But  I  hear  the  boat  returning,"  continued  Perkins,  rising 
gently  from  his  seat  as  the  sound  of  oars  came  faintly 
alongside,  "  and  no  doubt  with  Winslow's  messenger.  I 
am  sorry  you  won't  let  me  bring  you  together.  I  dare  say 
he  knows  all  about  you,  and  it  really  need  not  alter  your 
opinions." 

"One  moment,"  said  Hurlstone,  stunned,  yet  incred- 
ulous of  Perkins's  revelations.  "  You  said  that  both  the 
Comandante  and  Alcalde  had  arranged  to  send  away 
certain  ladies  —  are  you  not  mistaken  ?  " 

"  I  think  not,"  said  Perkins  quietly,  looking  over  a 
pile  of  papers  on  the  table  before  him.  "  Yes,  here  it 
is,"  he  continued,  reading  from  a  memorandum:  "  '  Don 
Ramon  Ramirez  arranged  with  Pepe  for  the  secret  carry- 
ing off  of  Dona  Barbara  Brimmer.'  Why,  that  was  six 
weeks  ago,  and  here  we  have  the  Comandante  suborning 
one  Marcia,  a  dragoon,  to  abduct  Mrs.  Markham  —  by 
Jove,  my  old  friend  !  —  and  Dona  Leonor  —  our  beauty, 
was  she  not  ?  Yes,  here  it  is  :  in  black  and  white.  Read 
it,  if  you  like,  —  and  pardon  me  for  one  moment,  while 
I  receive  this  unlucky  messenger." 

Left  to  himself,  Hurlstone  barely  glanced  at  the  memo- 
randum, which  seemed  to  be  the  rough  minutes  of  some 
society.  He  believed  Perkins ;  but  was  it  possible  that 
the  Padre  could  be  ignorant  of  the  designs  of  his  fellow- 
councilors  ?  And  if  he  were  not  —  if  he  had  long  before 


The  Return  of  the  Excelsior.         221 

been  in  complicity  with  them  for  the  removal  of  Eleanor, 
might  he  not  also  have  duped  him,.  Hurlstone,  and  sent 
him  on  this  mission  as  a  mere  blind  ;  and  —  more  infa- 
mously —  perhaps  even  thus  decoyed  him  on  board  the 
wrong  ship  ?  No  —  it  was  impossible  !  His  honest 
blood  quickly  flew  to  his  cheek  at  that  momentary  dis- 
loyal suspicion. 

Nevertheless,  the  Sefior's  bland  revelations  filled  him 
with  vague  uneasiness.  She  was  safe  with  her  brother 
now ;  but  what  if  he  and  the  other  Americans  were  en- 
gaged in  this  ridiculous  conspiracy,  this  pot-house  rebel- 
lion that  Father  Esteban  had  spoken  of,  and  which  he 
had  always  treated  with  such  contempt  ?  It  seemed 
strange  that  Perkins  had  said  nothing  of  the  arrival  of 
the  relieving  party  from  the  Gulf,  and  its  probable  effect 
on  the  malcontents.  Did  he  know  it  ?  or  was  the  news 
now  being  brought  by  this  messenger  whom  he,  Hurl- 
stone,  had  supplanted  ?  If  so,  when  and  how  had  Per- 
kins received  the  intelligence  that  brought  him  to  Todos 
Santos  ?  The  young  man  could  scarcely  repress  a  bitter 
smile  as  he  remembered  the  accepted  idea  of  Todos 
Santos'  inviolability  —  that  inaccessible  port  that  had 
within  six  weeks  secretly  summoned  Perkins  to  its  assist- 
ance !  And  it  was  there  he  believed  himself  secure  ! 
What  security  had  he  at  all  ?  Might  not  this  strange,  un- 
impassioned,  omniscient  man  already  know  his  secret  as 
he  had  known  the  others'  ? 

The  interview  of  Perkins  with  the  messenger  in  the 
next  cabin  was  a  long  one,  and  apparently  a  stormy  one 
on  the  part  of  the  newcomer.  Hurlstone  could  hear  his 
excited  foreign  voice,  shrill  with  the  small  vehemence  of 
a  shallow  character ;  but  there  was  no  change  in  the 
slow,  measured  tones  of  the  Senor.  He  listlessly  began 
to  turn  over  the  papers  on  the  table.  Presently  he 
paused.  He  had  taken  up  a  sheet  of  paper  on  which 


222         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

Senor  Perkins  had  evidently  been  essaying  some  compo- 
sition in  verse.  It  seemed  to  have  been  of  a  lugubrious 
character.  The  titular  line  at  the  top  of  the  page, 
"  Dirge,"  had  been  crossed  out  for  the  substituted  "  In 
Memoriam."  He  read  carelessly  : 

"  O  Muse  unmet  —  but  not  unwept  — 

I  seek  thy  sacred  haunt  in  vain. 
Too  late,  alas  !  the  tryst  is  kept  — 
We  may  not  meet  again  ! 

"  I  sought  thee  'midst  the  orange  bloom, 

To  find  that  thou  hadst  grasped  the  palm 
Of  martyr,  and  the  silent  tomb 
Had  hid  thee  in  its  calm. 

"  By  fever  racked,  thou  languishest 
On  Nicaragua's  "  — 

Hurlstone  threw  the  paper  aside.  Although  he  had  not 
forgotten  the  Sefior's  reputation  for  sentimental  ex- 
travagance, and  on  another  occasion  might  have  laughed 
at  it,  there  was  something  so  monstrous  in  this  hysterical, 
morbid  composition  of  the  man  who  was  even  then  con- 
templating bloodshed  and  crime,  that  he  was  disgustedv 
Like  most  sentimental  egotists,  Hurlstone  was  exceed- 
ingly intolerant  of  that  quality  in  others,  and  he  turned 
for  relief  to  his  own  thoughts  of  Eleanor  Keene  and  his 
own  unfortunate  passion.  He  could  not  have  written 
poetry  at  such  a  moment ! 

But  the  cabin -door  opened,  and  Senor  Perkins  ap- 
peared. Whatever  might  have  been  the  excited  condition 
of  his  unknown  visitor,  the  Sefior's  round,  clean-shaven 
face  was  smiling  and  undisturbed  by  emotion.  As  his 
eye  fell  on  the  page  of  manuscript  Hurlstone  had  just 
cast  down,  a  slight  shadow  crossed  his  beneficent  ex- 
panse of  forehead,  and  deepened  in  his  soft  dark  eyes  ; 
but  the  next  moment  it  was  chased  away  by  his  quick- 


The  Return  of  the  Excelsior.         223 

recurring  smile.  Even  thus  transient  and  superficial  was 
his  feeling,  thought  Hurlstone. 

"  I  have  some  news  for  you,"  said  Perkins  affably, 
"  which  may  alter  your  decision  about  returning.  My 
friends  ashore,"  he  continued,  "  judging  from  the  in- 
genuous specimen  which  has  just  visited  me,  are  more 
remarkable  for  their  temporary  zeal  and  spasmodic  devo- 
tion than  for  prudent  reserve  or  lasting  discretion.  They 
have  submitted  a  list  to  me  of  those  whom  they  con- 
sider dangerous  to  Mexican  liberty,  and  whom  they  are 
desirous  of  hanging.  I  regret  to  say  that  the  list  is 
illogical,  and  the  request  inopportune.  Our  friend  Mr. 
Banks  is  put  down  as  an  ally  of  the  Government  and  an 
objectionable  business  rival  of  that  eminent  patriot  and 
well-known  drover,  Senor  Martinez,  who  just  called  upon 
me.  Mr.  Crosby's  humor  is  considered  subversive  of  a 
proper  respect  for  all  patriotism ;  but  I  cannot  under- 
stand why  they  have  added  your  name  as  especially 
'  dangerous.' " 

Hurlstone  made  a  gesture  of  contempt. 

"  I  suppose  they  pay  me  the  respect  of  considering 
me  a  friend  of  the  old  priest.  So  be  it !  I  hope  they  will 
let  the  responsibility  fall  on  me  alone." 

"  The  Padre  is  already  proscribed  as  one  of  the  Coun- 
cil," said  Senor  Perkins  quietly. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say,"  said  Hurlstone  impetuously, 
"that  you  will  permit  a  hair  of  that  innocent  old  man's 
head  to  be  harmed  by  those  wretches  ? " 

"  You  are  generous  but  hasty,  my  friend,"  said  Senor 
Perkins,  in  gentle  deprecation.  "  Allow  me  to  put  your 
question  in  another  way.  Ask  me  if  I  intend  to  per- 
petuate the  Catholic  Church  in  Todos  Santos  by  adding 
another  martyr  to  its  roll,  and  I  will  tell  you  —  No !  I 
need  not  say  that  I  am  equally  opposed  to  any  proceed- 
ings against  Banks,  Crosby,  and  yourself,  for  diplomatic 


224        The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

reasons,  apart  from  the  kindly  memories  of  our  old  as- 
sociations on  this  ship.  I  have  therefore  been  obliged  to 
return  to  the  excellent  Martinez  his  little  list,  with  the 
remark  that  I  should  hold  him  personally  responsible  if 
any  of  you  are  molested.  There  is,  however,  no  danger. 
Messrs.  Banks  and  Crosby  are  with  the  other  Americans, 
whom  we  have  guaranteed  to  protect,  at  the  Mission,  in 
the  care  of  your  friend  the  Padre.  You  are  surprised  ! 
Equally  so  was  the  Padre.  Had  you  delayed  your  de- 
parture an  hour  you  would  have  met  them,  and  I  should 
have  been  debarred  the  pleasure  of  your  company. 

"  By  to-morrow,"  continued  Perkins,  placing  the  tips 
of  his  ringers  together  reflectively,  "  the  Government  of 
Todos  Santos  will  have  changed  hands,  and  without 
bloodshed.  You  look  incredulous  !  My  dear  young  friend, 
it  has  been  a  part  of  my  professional  pride  to  show  the 
world  that  these  revolutions  can  be  accomplished  as 
peacefully  as  our  own  changes  of  administration.  But 
for  a  few  infelicitous  accidents,  this  would  have  been  the 
case  of  the  late  liberation  of  Quinquinambo.  The  only 
risk  run  is  to  myself  —  the  leader,  and  that  is  as  it  should 
be.  But  all  this  personal  explanation  is,  doubtless,  unin- 
teresting to  you,  my  young  friend.  I  meant  only  to  say 
that,  if  you  prefer  not  to  remain  here,  you  can  accompany 
me  when  I  leave  the  ship  at  nine  o'clock  with  a  small 
reconnoitring  party,  and  I  will  give  you  safe  escort  back 
to  your  friends  at  the  Mission." 

This  amicable  proposition  produced  a  sudden  revulsion 
of  feeling  in  Hurlstone.  To  return  to  those  people  from 
whom  he  was  fleeing,  in  what  was  scarcely  yet  a  serious 
emergency,  was  not  to  be  thought  of  !  Yet,  where  could 
he  go  ?  How  could  he  be  near  enough  to  assist  her  with- 
out again  openly  casting  his  lot  among  them  ?  And  would 
they  not  consider  his  return  an  act  of  cowardice  ?  He 
could  not  restrain  a  gesture  of  irritation  as  he  rose  im- 
patiently to  his  feet. 


The  Return  of  the  Excelsior.         225 

"  You  are  agitated,  my  dear  fellow.  It  is  not  unworthy 
of  your  youth ;  but,  believe  me,  it  is  unnecessary,"  said 
Perkins,  in  his  most  soothing  manner.  "  Sit  down.  You 
have  an  hour  yet  to  make  your  decision.  If  you  prefer 
to  remain,  you  will  accompany  the  ship  to  Todos  Santos 
and  join  me." 

"I  don't  comprehend  you,"  interrupted  Hurlstone 
suspiciously. 

"I  forgot,"  said  Perkins,  with  a  bland  smile,  "that  you 
are  unaware  of  our  plan  of  campaign.  After  communi- 
cating with  the  insurgents,  I  land  here  with  a  small  force 
to  assist  them.  I  do  this  to  anticipate  any  action  and 
prevent  the  interference  of  the  Mexican  coaster,  now 
due,  which  always  touches  here  through  ignorance  of  the 
channel  leading  to  the  Bay  of  Todos  Santos  and  the 
Presidio.  I  then  send  the  Excelsior,  that  does  know  the 
channel,  to  Todos  Santos,  to  appear  before  the  Presidio, 
take  the  enemy  in  flank,  and  cooperate  with  us.  The 
arrival  of  the  Excelsior  there  is  the  last  move  of  this 
kttle  game,  if  I  may  so  call  it :  it  is  *  checkmate  to  the 
King/  the  clerical  Government  of  Todos  Santos." 

A  little  impressed,  in  spite  of  himself,  with  the  calm 
forethought  and  masterful  security  of  the  Sefior,  Hurl- 
stone  thanked  him  with  a  greater  show  of  respect  than 
he  had  hitherto  evinced.  The  Sefior  looked  gratified, 
but  unfortunately  placed  that  respect  the  next  moment  in 
peril. 

"You  were  possibly  glancing  over  these  verses,"  he 
said,  with  a  hesitating  and  almost  awkward  diffidence, 
indicating  the  manuscript  Hurlstone  had  just  thrown 
aside.  "  It  is  merely  the  first  rough  draft  of  a  little 
tribute  I  had  begun  to  a  charming  friend.  I  sometimes," 
he  interpolated,  with  an  apologetic  smile,  "  trifle  with  the 
Muse.  Perhaps  I  ought  not  to  use  the  word  '  trifle '  in 
connection  with  a  composition  of  a  threnodial  and  dirge- 


226         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

like  character,"  he  continued  deprecatingly.  "  Certainly 
not  in  the  presence  of  a  gentleman  as  accomplished  and 
educated  as  yourself,  to  whom  recreation  of  this  kind  is 
undoubtedly  familiar.  My  occupations  have  been,  unfor- 
tunately, of  a  nature  not  favorable  to  the  indulgence  of 
verse.  As  a  college  man  yourself,  my  dear  sir,  you  will 
probably  forgive  the  lucubrations  of  an  old  graduate  of 
William  and  Mary's,  who  has  forgotten  his  '  ars  poetica.* 
The  verses  you  have  possibly  glanced  at  are  crude,  I  am 
aware,  and  perhaps  show  the  difficulty  of  expressing  at 
once  the  dictates  of  the  heart  and  the  brain.  They  refer 
to  a  dear  friend  now  at  peace.  You  have  perhaps,  in 
happier  and  more  careless  hours,  heard  me  speak  of  Mrs. 
Euphemia  M'Corkle,  of  Illinois?" 

Hurlstone  remembered  indistinctly  to  have  heard,  even 
in  his  reserved  exclusiveness  on  the  Excelsior,  the  cur- 
rent badinage  of  the  passengers  concerning  Senor  Per- 
kins' extravagant  adulation  of  this  unknown  poetess.  As 
a  part  of  the  staple  monotonous  humor  of  the  voyage,  it 
had  only  disgusted  him.  With  a  feeling  that  he  was 
unconsciously  sharing  the  burlesque  relief  of  the  passen- 
gers, he  said,  with  a  polite  attempt  at  interest,  — 

"  Then  the  lady  is  —  no  more  ?  " 

"  If  that  term  can  be  applied  to  one  whose  work  is  im- 
mortal," corrected  Sefior  Perkins  gently.  "  All  that  was 
finite  of  this  gifted  woman  was  lately  forwarded  by 
Adams's  Express  Company  from  San  Juan,  to  receive 
sepulture  among  her  kindred  at  Keokuk,  Iowa." 

"  Did  she  say  she  was  from  that  place  ? "  asked  Hurl- 
stone,  with  half  automatic  interest. 

"  The  Consul  says  she  gave  that  request  to  the  priest." 

"  Then  you  were  not  with  her  when  she  died  ? "  said 
Hurlstone  absently. 

"I  was  never  with  her,  neither  then  nor  before,"  re- 
turned Sefior  Perkins  gravely.  Seeing  Hurlstone's  mo- 


The  Return  of  the  Excelsior.         227 

mentary  surprise,  he  went  on,  "The  late  Mrs.  M'Corkle 
and  I  never  met  —  we  were  personally  unknown  to  each 
other.  You  may  have  observed  the  epithet  '  unmet '  in 
the  first  line  of  the  first  stanza ;  you  will  then  understand 
that  the  privation  of  actual  contact  with  this  magnetic 
soul  would  naturally  impart  more  difficulty  into  elegiac 
expression." 

"  Then  you  never  really  saw  the  lady  you  admire  ? " 
said  Hurlstone  vacantly. 

"  Never.  The  story  is  a  romantic  one,"  said  Perkins, 
with  a  smile  that  was  half  complacent  and  yet  half  em- 
barrassed. "  May  I  tell  it  to  you  ?  Thanks.  Some  three 
years  ago  I  contributed  some  verses  to  the  columns  of  a 
Western  paper  edited  by  a  friend  of  mine.  The  subject 
chosen  was  my  f  avoHte  one,  '  The  Liberation  of  Man- 
kind,' in  which  I  may  possibly  have  expressed  myself 
with  some  poetic  fervor  on  a  theme  so  dear  to  my  heart. 
I  may  remark  without  vanity,  that  it  received  high  enco- 
miums—  perhaps  at  some  more  opportune  moment  you 
may  be  induced  to  cast  your  eyes  over  a  copy  I  still 
retain  —  but  no  praise  touched  me  as  deeply  as  a  tribute 
in  verse  in  another  journal  from  a  gifted  unknown,  who 
signed  herself  '  Euphemia.'  The  subject  of  the  poem, 
which  was  dedicated  to  myself,  was  on  the  liberation  of 
women  —  from  —  er  —  I  may  say  certain  domestic  shack- 
les ;  treated  perhaps  vaguely,  but  with  grace  and  vigor. 
I  replied  a  week  later  in  a  larger  poem,  recording  more 
fully  my  theories  and  aspirations  regarding  a  struggling 
Central  American  confederacy,  addressed  to  *  Euphemia.' 
She  rejoined  with  equal  elaboration  and  detail,  referring 
to  a  more  definite  form  of  tyranny  in  the  relations  of 
marriage,  and  alluding  with  some  feeling  to  uncongenial 
experiences  of  her  own.  An  instinct  of  natural  delicacy, 
veiled  under  the  hyperbole  of  '  want  of  space,'  prevented 
my  editorial  friend  from  encouraging  the  repetition  of  this 


228         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

charming  interchange  of  thought  and  feeling.  But  I  pro- 
cured the  fair  stranger's  address ;  we  began  a  corre- 
spondence, at  once  imaginative  and  sympathetic  in  ex- 
pression, if  not  always  poetical  in  form.  I  was  called  to 
South  America  by  the  Macedonian  cry  of  'Quinquin- 
ambo  ! '  I  still  corresponded  with  her.  When  I  returned 
to  Quinquinambo  I  received  letters  from  her,  dated  from 
San  Francisco.  I  feel  that  my  words  could  only  fail,  my 
dear  Hurlstone,  to  convey  to  you  the  strength  and  sup- 
port I  derived  from  those  impassioned  breathings  of  aid 
and  sympathy  at  that  time.  Enough  for  me  to  confess 
that  it  was  mainly  due  to  the  deep  womanly  interest  that 
she  took  in  the  fortunes  of  the  passengers  of  the  Excel- 
sior that  I  gave  the  Mexican  authorities  early  notice  of 
their  whereabouts.  But,  pardon  me,"  —  he  stopped  hesi- 
tatingly, with  a  slight  flush,  as  he  noticed  the  utterly 
inattentive  face  and  attitude  of  Hurlstone,  —  "I  am  bor- 
ing you.  I  am  forgetting  that  this  is  only  important  to 
myself,"  he  added,  with  a  sigh.  "  I  only  intended  to  ask 
your  advice  in  regard  to  the  disposition  of  certain  manu- 
scripts and  effects  of  hers,  which  are  unconnected  with 
our  acquaintance.  I  thought,  perhaps,  I  might  entrust 
them  to  your  delicacy  and  consideration.  They  are  here, 
if  you  choose  to  look  them  over ;  and  here  is  also  what 
I  believe  to  be  a  daguerreotype  of  the  lady  herself,  but 
in  which  I  fail  to  recognize  her  soul  and  genius." 

He  laid  a  bundle  of  letters  and  a  morocco  case  on  the 
table  with  a  carelessness  that  was  intended  to  hide  a 
slight  shade  of  disappointment  in  his  face  —  and  rose. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  said  Hurlstone,  in  confused  and 
remorseful  apology ;  "  but  I  frankly  confess  that  my 
thoughts  were  preoccupied.  Pray  forgive  me.  If  you 
will  leave  these  papers  with  me,  I  promise  to  devote 
myself  to  them  another  time." 

"  As  you  please,"  said  the  Senor,  with  a  slight  return 


The  Return  of  the  Excelsior.         229 

of  his  old  affability.    "  But  don't  bore  yourself  now.     Let 
us  go  on  deck." 

He  passed  out  of  the  cabin  as  Hurlstone  glanced,  half 
mechanically,  at  the  package  before  him.  Suddenly  his 
cheek  reddened  ;  he  stopped,  looked  hurriedly  at  the 
retreating  form  of  Perkins,  and  picked  up  a  manuscript 
from  the  packet.  It  was  in  his  wife's  handwriting.  A 
sudden  idea  flashed  across  his  mind,  and  seemed  to  illu- 
minate the  obscure  monotony  of  the  story  he  had  just 
heard.  He  turned  hurriedly  to  the  morocco  case,  and 
opened  it  with  trembling  ringers.  It  was  a  daguerreo- 
type, faded  and  silvered  ;  but  the  features  were  those  of 
his  wife  ! 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

HOSTAGE. 

THE  revolution  of  Todos  Santos  had  to  all  appear- 
ances been  effected  as  peacefully  as  the  gentle  Liberator 
of  Quinquinambo  could  have  wished.  Two  pronuncia- 
mientos,  rudely  printed  and  posted  in  the  Plaza,  and 
saluted  by  the  fickle  garrison  of  one  hundred  men,  who 
had,  however,  immediately  reappointed  their  old  com- 
mander as  Generalissimo  under  the  new  regime,  seemed 
to  leave  nothing  to  be  desired.  A  surging  mob  of  vacant 
and  wondering  peons,  bearing  a  singular  resemblance  to 
the  wild  cattle  and  horses  which  intermingled  with  them 
in  blind  and  unceasing  movement  across  the  Plaza,  and 
up  the  hilly  street,  and  seemingly  as  incapable  of  self- 
government,  were  alternately  dispersed  and  stampeded 
or  allowed  to  gather  again  as  occasion  required.  Some 
of  these  heterogeneous  bands  were  afterwards  found  — 
the  revolution  accomplished  —  gazing  stupidly  on  the 
sea,  or  ruminating  in  bovine  wantonness  on  the  glacis 
before  the  Presidio. 

Eleanor  Keene,  who  with  her  countrywomen  had  been 
hurried  to  the  refuge  of  the  Mission,  was  more  disturbed 
and  excited  at  the  prospect  of  meeting  Hurlstone  again 
than  by  any  terror  of  the  insurrection.  But  Hurlstone 
was  not  there,  and  Father  Esteban  received  her  with  a  cold- 
ness she  could  not  attribute  entirely  to  her  countrymen's 
supposed  sympathy  with  the  insurgents.  When  Richard 
Keene,  who  would  not  leave  his  sister  until  he  had  seen 
her  safe  under  the  Mission  walls,  ventured  at  her  sugges- 
tion to  ask  after  the  American  recluse,  Father  Esteban 


Hostage.  231 

replied  dryly  that,  being  a  Christian  gentleman,  Hurlstone 
was  the  only  one  who  had  the  boldness  to  seek  out  the 
American  filibuster  Perkins,  on  his  own  ship,  and  remon- 
strate with  him  for  his  unholy  crusade.  For  the  old 
priest  had  already  become  aware  of  Hurlstone's  blunder, 
and  he  hated  Eleanor  as  the  primary  cause  of  the  trouble. 
But  for  her,  Diego  would  be  still  with  him  in  this 
emergency. 

"Never  mind,  Nell,"  said  Dick,  noticing  the  disap- 
pointed eyes  of  his  sister  as  they  parted,  "  you  '11  all  be 
safe  here  until  we  return.  Between  you  and  me,  Banks, 
Brimmer,  and  I  think  that  Brace  and  Winslow  have  gone 
too  far  in  this  matter,  and  we  're  going  to  stop  it,  unless 
the  whole  thing  is  over  now,  as  they  say." 

"  Don't  believe  that,"  said  Crosby.  "  It 's  like  their 
infernal  earthquakes ;  there  's  always  a  second  shock,  and 
a  tidal  wave  to  follow.  I  pity  Brace,  Winslow,  and  Per- 
kins if  they  get  caught  in  it." 

There  seemed  to  be  some  reason  for  his  skepticism,  for 
later  the  calm  of  the  Mission  Garden  was  broken  upon 
by  the  monotonous  tread  of  banded  men  on  the  shell- 
strewn  walks,  and  the  door  of  the  refectory  opened  to  the 
figure  of  Senor  Perkins.  A  green  silk  sash  across  his 
breast,  a  gold-laced  belt,  supporting  a  light  dress-sword 
and  a  pair  of  pistols,  buckled  around  the  jaunty  waist  of 
his  ordinary  black  frock-coat,  were  his  scant  martial  sug- 
gestions. But  his  hat,  albeit  exchanged  for  a  soft  felt  one, 
still  reposed  on  the  back  of  his  benevolent  head,  and 
seemed  to  accent  more  than  ever  the  contrast  between  his 
peaceful  shoulders  and  the  military  smartness  of  his 
lower  figure.  He  bowed  with  easy  politeness  to  the  as- 
sembled fugitives  ;  but  before  he  could  address  them, 
Father  Esteban  had  risen  to  his  feet,  — 

"  I  thought  that  this  house,  at  least,  was  free  from  the 
desecrating  footsteps  of  lawlessness  and  impiety,"  said 
the  priest  sternly.  "  How  dare  JWK  enter  here  ?  " 


232         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Nothing  but  the  desire  to  lend  my  assistance  to  the 
claims  of  beauty,  innocence,  helplessness,  and  —  if  you 
will  allow  me  to  add,"  with  a  low  bow  to  the  priest  — 
"  sanctity,  caused  this  intrusion.  For  I  regret  to  say  that, 
through  the  ill-advised  counsels  of  some  of  my  fellow- 
patriots,  the  Indian  tribes  attached  to  this  Mission  are  in 
revolt,  and  threaten  even  this  sacred  building." 

"  It  is  false  !  "  said  Father  Esteban  indignantly.  "  Even 
under  the  accursed  manipulation  of  your  emissaries,  the 
miserable  heathen  would  not  dare  to  raise  a  parricidal 
hand  against  the  Church  that  fostered  him  !  " 

Sefior  Perkins  smiled  gently,  but  sadly. 

"Your  belief,  reverend  sir,  does  you  infinite  credit. 
But,  to  save  time,  let  me  give  way  to  a  gentleman  who,  I 
believe,  possesses  your  confidence.  He  will  confirm  my 
statement." 

He  drew  aside,  and  allowed  Hurlstone,  who  had  been 
standing  unperceived  behind,  to  step  forward.  The 
Padre  uttered  an  exclamation  of  pleasure.  Miss  Keene 
colored  quickly.  Hurlstone  cast  a  long  and  lingering 
glance  at  her,  which  seemed  to  the  embarrassed  girl  full 
of  a  new,  strange  meaning,  and  then  advanced  quickly 
with  outstretched  hands  towards  Father  Esteban. 

"  He  speaks  truly,"  he  said,  hurriedly,  "  and  in  the  in- 
terests of  humanity  alone.  The  Indians  have  been  tam- 
pered with  treacherously,  against  his  knowledge  and  con- 
sent. He  only  seeks  now  to  prevent  the  consequences  of 
this  folly  by  placing  you  and  these  ladies  out  of  reach  of 
harm  aboard  of  the  Excelsior." 

"  A  very  proper  and  excellent  idea,"  broke  in  Mrs. 
Brimmer,  with  genteel  precision.  "  You  see  these  people 
evidently  recognize  the  fact  of  Mr.  Brimmer's  previous 
ownership  of  the  Excelsior,  and  the  respect  that  is  due  to 
him.  I,  for  one,  shall  accept  the  offer,  and  insist  upon 
Miss  Chubb  accompanying  me." 


Hostage.  233 

"  I  shall  be  charmed  to  extend  the  hospitality  of  the 
Excelsior  to  you  on  any  pretext,"  said  the  Senor  gal- 
lantly, "and,  indeed,  should  insist  upon  personally  ac- 
companying you  and  my  dear  friends  Mrs.  Markham 
and  Miss  Keene ;  but,  alas  !  I  am  required  elsewhere.  I 
leave,"  he  continued,  turning  towards  Hurlstone,  who  was 
already  absorbed  in  a  whispered  consultation  with  Padre 
Esteban  —  "I  leave  a  sufficient  escort  with  you  to  protect 
your  party  to  the  boats  which  have  brought  us  here.  You 
will  take  them  to  the  Excelsior,  and  join  me  with  the  ship 
off  Todos  Santos  in  the  morning.  Adieu,  my  friends  ! 
Good-night,  and  farewell !  " 

The  priest  made  a  vehement  movement  of  protestation, 
but  he  was  checked  by  Hurlstone,  as,  with  a  low  bow, 
Senor  Perkins  passed  out  into  the  darkness.  The  next 
moment  his  voice  was  heard  raised  in  command,  and  the 
measured  tramp  of  his  men  gradually  receded  and  was 
lost  in  the  distance. 

"Does  he  think,"  said  the  priest  indignantly,  "that  I, 
Padre  Esteban,  would  desert  my  sacred  trust,  and  leave 
His  Holy  Temple  a  prey  to  sacrilegious  trespass  ? 
Never,  while  I  live,  Diego  !  Call  him  back  and  tell 
him  so  ! " 

"  Rather  listen  to  me,  Father  Esteban,"  said  the  young 
man  earnestly.  "  I  have  a  plan  by  which  this  may  be 
avoided.  From  my  knowledge  of  these  Indians,  I  am 
convinced  that  they  have  been  basely  tricked  and  cajoled 
by  some  one.  I  believe  that  they  are  still  amenable  to 
reason  and  argument,  and  I  am  so  certain  that  I  am 
ready  to  go  down  among  them  and  make  the  attempt. 
The  old  Chief  and  part  of  his  band  are  still  encamped  on 
the  shore ;  we  could  hear  them  as  we  passed  in  the 
boats.  I  will  go  and  meet  them.  If  I  succeed  in  bring- 
ing them  to  reason  I  will  return  ;  if  I  find  them  intracta- 
ble, I  will  at  least  divert  their  attention  from  the  Mission 


234         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

long  enough  for  you  to  embark  these  ladies  with  their 
escort,  which  you  will  do  at  the  end  of  two  hours  if  I  do 
not  return." 

"  In  two  hours  ? "  broke  in  Mrs.  Brimmer,  in  sharp 
protest.  "I  positively  object.  I  certainly  understood 
that  Sefior  Perkins'  invitation,  which,  under  the  circum- 
stances, I  shall  consider  equal  to  a  command  from  Mr. 
Brimmer,  was  to  be  accepted  at  once  and  without  delay ; 
and  I  certainly  shall  not  leave  Miss  Chubb  exposed  to 
imminent  danger  for  two  hours  to  meet  the  caprice  of  an 
entire  stranger  to  Mr.  Brimmer." 

"  I  am  willing  to  stay  with  Father  Esteban,  if  he  will 
let  me,"  said  Eleanor  Keene  quietly,  "  for  I  have  faith 
in  Mr.  Hurlstone's  influence  and  courage,  and  believe  he 
will  be  successful." 

The  young  man  thanked  her  with  another  demonstra- 
tive look  that  brought  the  warm  blood  to  her  cheek. 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Markham  promptly ;  "  I  suppose  if 
Nell  stays  I  must  see  the  thing  through  and  stay  with  her 
—  even  if  /have  n't  orders  from  Jimmy." 

"  There  is  no  necessity  that  either  Mr.  or  Mrs.  Brim- 
mer should  be  disobeyed  in  their  wishes,"  said  Hurlstone 
grimly.  "  Luckily  there  are  two  boats  ;  Mrs.  Brimmer 
and  Miss  Chubb  can  take  one  of  them  with  half  the  es- 
cort, and  proceed  at  once  to  the  Excelsior.  I  will  ride 
with  them  as  far  as  the  boat.  And  now,"  he  continued, 
turning  to  the  old  priest,  with  sparkling  eyes,  "I  have 
only  to  ask  your  blessing,  and  the  good  wishes  of  these 
ladies,  to  go  forth  on  my  mission  of  peace.  If  I  am  suc- 
cessful," he  added,  with  a  light  laugh,  "  confess  that  a 
layman  and  a  heretic  may  do  some  service  for  the 
Church."  As  the  old  man  laid  his  half  detaining,  half 
benedictory  hands  upon  his  shoulders,  the  young  man 
seized  the  opportunity  to  whisper  in  his  ear,  "  Remember 
your  promise  to  tell  her  all  I  have  told  you,"  and,  with  an- 


Hostage.  235 

other  glance  at  Miss  Keene,  he  marshalled  Mrs.  Brim- 
mer and  Miss  Chubb  before  him,  and  hurried  them  to  the 
boat. 

Miss  Keene  looked  after  him  with  a  vague  felicity  in 
the  change  that  seemed  to  have  come  on  him,  a  change 
that  she  could  as  little  account  for  as  her  own  happiness. 
Was  it  the  excitement  of  danger  that  had  overcome  his 
reserve,  and  set  free  his  compressed  will  and  energy? 
She  longed  for  her  brother  to  see  him  thus  —  alert,  strong, 
and  chivalrous.  In  her  girlish  faith,  she  had  no  fear  for 
his  safety ;  he  would  conquer,  he  would  succeed ;  he 
would  come  back  to  them  victorious  !  Looking  up  from 
her  happy  abstraction,  at  the  side  of  Mrs.  Markham,  who 
had  calmly  gone  to  sleep  in  an  arm-chair,  she  saw  Father 
Esteban's  eyes  fixed  upon  her.  With  a  warning  gesture 
of  the  hand  towards  Mrs.  Markham,  he  rose,  and,  going 
to  the  door  of  the  sacristy,  beckoned  to  her.  The  young 
girl  noiselessly  crossed  the  room  and  followed  him  into 
the  sanctuary. 

Half  an  hour  later,  and  while  Mrs,,  Markham  was  still 
asleep,  Father  Esteban  appeared  at  the  door  of  the 
sacristy  ostentatiously  taking  snuff,  and  using  a  large  red 
handkerchief  to  wipe  his  more  than  usually  humid  eyes. 
Eleanor  Keene,  with  her  chin  resting  on  her  hand,  re- 
mained sitting  as  he  had  left  her,  with  her  abstracted  eyes 
fixed  vacantly  on  the  lamp  before  the  statue  of  the  Virgin 
and  the  half-lit  gloom  of  the  nave. 

Padre  Esteban  had  told  her  all!  She  now  knew  Hurl- 
stone's  history  even  as  he  had  hesitatingly  imparted  it  to 
the  old  priest  in  this  very  church  —  perhaps  upon  the 
very  seat  where  she  sat.  She  knew  the  peace  that  he  had 
sought  for  and  found  within  these  walls,  broken  only  by 
his  passion  for  her  !  She  knew  his  struggles  against  the 
hopelessness  of  this  new-born  love,  even  the  desperate 
remedy  that  had  been  adopted  against  herself,  and  the 


236         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

later  voluntary  exile  of  her  lover.  She  knew  the  prov- 
idential culmination  of  his  trouble  in  the  news  brought 
unconsciously  by  Perkins,  which,  but  a  few  hours  ago,  he 
had  verified  by  the  letters,  records,  and  even  the  certifi- 
cate of  death  that  had  thus  strangely  been  placed  in  his 
hands  !  She  knew  all  this  so  clearly  now,  that,  with  the 
instinct  of  a  sympathetic  nature,  she  even  fancied  she  had 
heard  it  before.  She  knew  that  all  the  obstacles  to  an 
exchange  of  their  affection  had  been  removed ;  that  her 
lover  only  waited  his  opportunity  to  hear  from  her  own 
lips  the  answer  that  was  even  now  struggling  at  her 
heart.  And  yet  she  hesitated  and  drew  back,  half 
frightened  in  the  presence  of  her  great  happiness.  How 
she  longed,  and  yet  dreaded,  to  meet  him  !  What  if  any- 
thing should  have  happened  to  him  ?  —  what  if  he  should 
be  the  victim  of  some  treachery  ?  —  what  if  he  did  not 
come  ?  —  what  if  ?  —  "  Good  heavens  !  what  was  that  ?  " 
She  was  near  the  door  of  the  sacristy,  gazing  into  the 
dim  and  shadowy  church.  Either  she  was  going  mad,  or 
else  the  grotesque  Indian  hangings  of  the  walls  were 
certainly  moving  towards  her.  She  rose  in  speechless 
terror,  as  what  she  had  taken  for  an  uncouthly  swathed 
and  draped  barbaric  pillar  suddenly  glided  to  the  window. 
Crouching  against  the  wall,  she  crept  breathlessly  towards 
the  entrance  to  the  garden.  Casting  a  hurried  glance 
above  her,  she  saw  the  open  belfry  that  was  illuminated 
by  the  misty  radiance  of  the  moon,  darkly  shadowed  by 
hideously  gibbering  faces  that  peered  at  her  through  the 
broken  tracery.  With  a  cry  of  horror  she  threw  open  the 
garden-door ;  but  the  next  moment  was  swallowed  up  in 
the  tumultuous  tide  of  wild  and  half  naked  Indians  who 
surged  against  the  walls  of  the  church,  and  felt  herself 
lifted  from  her  feet,  with  inarticulate  cries,  and  borne 
along  the  garden.  Even  in  her  mortal  terror,  she  could 
recognize  that  the  cries  were  not  those  of  rage,  but  of 


Hostage.  237 

vacant  satisfaction  ;  that  although  she  was  lifted  on  lithe 
shoulders,  the  grasp  of  her  limbs  was  gentle,  and  the  few 
dark  faces  she  could  see  around  her  were  glistening  in 
childlike  curiosity.  Presently  she  felt  herself  placed 
upon  the  back  of  a  mule,  that  seemed  to  be  swayed 
hither  and  thither  in  the  shifting  mass,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment the  misty,  tossing  cortege  moved  forward  with  a 
new  and  more  definite  purpose.  She  called  aloud  for 
Father  Esteban  and  Mrs.  Markham  ;  her  voice  appeared 
to  flow  back  upon  her  from  the  luminous  wall  of  fog  that 
closed  around  her.  Then  the  inarticulate,  irregular  out- 
cries took  upon  themselves  a  measured  rhythm,  the  move- 
ment of  the  mass  formed  itself  upon  the  monotonous 
chant,  the  intervals  grew  shorter,  the  mule  broke  into  a 
trot,  and  then  the  whole  vast  multitude  fell  into  a  weird, 
rhythmical,  jogging  quick  step  at  her  side. 

Whatever  was  the  intent  of  this  invasion  of  the  Mission 
and  her  own  strange  abduction,  she  was  relieved  by 
noticing  that  they  were  going  in  the  same  direction  as 
that  taken  by  Hurlstone  an  hour  before.  Either  he  was 
cognizant  of  their  movements,  and,  being  powerless  to 
prevent  their  attack  on  the  church,  had  stipulated  they 
were  to  bring  her  to  him  in  safety,  or  else  he  was  calcu- 
lating to  intercept  them  on  the  way.  The  fog  prevented 
her  from  forming  any  estimation  of  the  numbers  that 
surrounded  her,  or  if  the  Padre  and  Mrs.  Markham  were 
possibly  preceding  her  as  captives  in  the  vanguard.  She 
felt  the  breath  of  the  sea,  and  knew  they  were  traveling 
along  the  shore  ;  the  monotonous  chant  and  jogging  mo- 
tion gradually  dulled  her  active  terror  to  an  apathetic 
resignation,  in  which  occasionally  her  senses  seemed  to 
swoon  and  swim  in  the  dreamy  radiance  through  which 
they  passed ;  at  times  it  seemed  a  dream  or  nightmare 
with  which  she  was  hopelessly  struggling  j  at  times  she 
was  taking  part  in  an  unhallowed  pageant,  or  some  hea- 


236         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

later  voluntary  exile  of  her  lover.  She  knew  the  prov- 
idential culmination  of  his  trouble  in  the  news  brought 
unconsciously  by  Perkins,  which,  but  a  few  hours  ago,  he 
had  verified  by  the  letters,  records,  and  even  the  certifi- 
cate of  death  that  had  thus  strangely  been  placed  in  his 
hands  !  She  knew  all  this  so  clearly  now,  that,  with  the 
instinct  of  a  sympathetic  nature,  she  even  fancied  she  had 
heard  it  before.  She  knew  that  all  the  obstacles  to  an 
exchange  of  their  affection  had  been  removed  j  that  her 
lover  only  waited  his  opportunity  to  hear  from  her  own 
lips  the  answer  that  was  even  now  struggling  at  her 
heart.  And  yet  she  hesitated  and  drew  back,  half 
frightened  in  the  presence  of  her  great  happiness.  How 
she  longed,  and  yet  dreaded,  to  meet  him  !  What  if  any- 
thing should  have  happened  to  him  ?  —  what  if  he  should 
be  the  victim  of  some  treachery  ?  —  what  if  he  did  not 
come  ?  —  what  if  ?  —  "  Good  heavens  !  what  was  that  ?  " 
She  was  near  the  door  of  the  sacristy,  gazing  into  the 
dim  and  shadowy  church.  Either  she  was  going  mad,  or 
else  the  grotesque  Indian  hangings  of  the  walls  were 
certainly  moving  towards  her.  She  rose  in  speechless 
terror,  as  what  she  had  taken  for  an  uncouthly  swathed 
and  draped  barbaric  pillar  suddenly  glided  to  the  window. 
Crouching  against  the  wall,  she  crept  breathlessly  towards 
the  entrance  to  the  garden.  Casting  a  hurried  glance 
above  her,  she  saw  the  open  belfry  that  was  illuminated 
by  the  misty  radiance  of  the  moon,  darkly  shadowed  by 
hideously  gibbering  faces  that  peered  at  her  through  the 
broken  tracery.  With  a  cry  of  horror  she  threw  open  the 
garden-door ;  but  the  next  moment  was  swallowed  up  in 
the  tumultuous  tide  of  wild  and  half  naked  Indians  who 
surged  against  the  walls  of  the  church,  and  felt  herself 
lifted  from  her  feet,  with  inarticulate  cries,  and  borne 
along  the  garden.  Even  in  her  mortal  terror,  she  could 
recognize  that  the  cries  were  not  those  of  rage,  but  of 


Hostage.  237 

vacant  satisfaction  j  that  although  she  was  lifted  on  lithe 
shoulders,  the  grasp  of  her  limbs  was  gentle,  and  the  few 
dark  faces  she  could  see  around  her  were  glistening  in 
childlike  curiosity.  Presently  she  felt  herself  placed 
upon  the  back  of  a  mule,  that  seemed  to  be  swayed 
hither  and  thither  in  the  shifting  mass,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment the  misty,  tossing  cortege  moved  forward  with  a 
new  and  more  definite  purpose.  She  called  aloud  for 
Father  Esteban  and  Mrs.  Markham ;  her  voice  appeared 
to  flow  back  upon  her  from  the  luminous  wall  of  fog  that 
closed  around  her.  Then  the  inarticulate,  irregular  out- 
cries took  upon  themselves  a  measured  rhythm,  the  move- 
ment of  the  mass  formed  itself  upon  the  monotonous 
chant,  the  intervals  grew  shorter,  the  mule  broke  into  a 
trot,  and  then  the  whole  vast  multitude  fell  into  a  weird, 
rhythmical,  jogging  quick  step  at  her  side. 

Whatever  was  the  intent  of  this  invasion  of  the  Mission 
and  her  own  strange  abduction,  she  was  relieved  by 
noticing  that  they  were  going  in  the  same  direction  as 
that  taken  by  Hurlstone  an  hour  before.  Either  he  was 
cognizant  of  their  movements,  and,  being  powerless  to 
prevent  their  attack  on  the  church,  had  stipulated  they 
were  to  bring  her  to  him  in  safety,  or  else  he  was  calcu- 
lating to  intercept  them  on  the  way.  The  fog  prevented 
her  from  forming  any  estimation  of  the  numbers  that 
surrounded  her,  or  if  the  Padre  and  Mrs.  Markham  were 
possibly  preceding  her  as  captives  in  the  vanguard.  She 
felt  the  breath  of  the  sea,  and  knew  they  were  traveling 
along  the  shore  ;  the  monotonous  chant  and  jogging  mo- 
tion gradually  dulled  her  active  terror  to  an  apathetic 
resignation,  in  which  occasionally  her  senses  seemed  to 
swoon  and  swim  in  the  dreamy  radiance  through  which 
they  passed ;  at  times  it  seemed  a  dream  or  nightmare 
with  which  she  was  hopelessly  struggling  \  at  times  she 
was  taking  part  in  an  unhallowed  pageant,  or  some  hea- 


238         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

then  sacrificial  procession  of  which  she  was  the  destined 
victim. 

She  had  no  consciousness  of  how  long  the  hideous 
journey  lasted.  Her  benumbed  senses  were  suddenly 
awakened  by  a  shock  ;  the  chant  had  ceased,  the  moving 
mass  in  which  she  was  imbedded  rolled  forward  once 
more  as  if  by  its  own  elasticity,  and  then  receded  again 
with  a  jar  that  almost  unseated  her.  Then  the  inarticu- 
late murmur  was  overborne  by  a  voice.  It  was  his ! 
She  turned  blindly  towards  it ;  but  before  she  could  utter 
the  cry  that  rose  to  her  lips,  she  was  again  lifted  from 
the  saddle,  carried  forward,  and  gently  placed  upon  what 
seemed  to  be  a  moss-grown  bank.  Opening  her  half 
swimming  eyes  she  recognized  the  Indian  cross.  The 
crowd  seemed  to  recede  before  her.  Her  eyes  closed 
again  as  a  strong  arm  passed  around  her  waist. 

"  Speak  to  me,  Miss  Keene  —  Eleanor  —  my  darling !  " 
said  Hurlstone's  voice.  "  O  my  God !  they  have  killed 
her !  " 

With  an  effort  she  moved  her  head  and  tried  to  smile. 
Their  eyes,  and  then  their  lips  met ;  she  fainted. 

When  she  struggled  to  her  senses  again,  she  was  lying 
in  the  stern -sheets  of  the  Excelsior's  boat,  supported  on 
Mrs.  Markham's  shoulder.  For  an  instant  the  floating 
veil  of  fog  around  her,  and  the  rhythmical  movement  of 
the  boat,  seemed  a  part  of  her  mysterious  ride,  and  she 
raised  her  head  with  a  faint  cry  for  Hurlstone. 

"  It  's  all  right,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Markham,  sooth- 
ingly ;  "  he  's  ashore  with  the  Padre,  and  everything  else  is 
all  right  too.  But  it 's  rather  ridiculous  to  think  that  those 
idiotic  Indians  believed  the  only  way  they  could  show 
Mr.  Hurlstone  that  they  meant  us  no  harm  was  to  drag 
us  all  up  to  their  Mission,  as  they  call  that  half  heathen 
cross  of  theirs — for  safety  against  —  who  do  you  think, 
dear  ?  —  the  dreadful  Americans  !  And  imagine  all  the 


Hostage.  239 

while  the  Padre  and  I  were  just  behind  you,  bringing  up 
the  rear  of  the  procession  —  only  they  would  n't  let  us 
join  you  because  they  wanted  to  show  you  special  honor 
as  "  —  she  sank  her  voice  to  a  whisper  in  Eleanor's  ear 
—  "  as  the  future  Mrs.  Hurlstone  !  It  appears  they  must 
have  noticed  something  about  you  two,  the  last  time  you 
were  there,  my  dear.  And  —  to  think  —  you  never  told 
me  anything  about  it !  " 

When  they  reached  the  Excelsior,  they  found  that  Mrs. 
Brimmer,  having  already  settled  herself  in  the  best  cabin, 
was  inclined  to  extend  the  hospitalities  of  the  ship  with 
the  air  of  a  hostess.  But  the  arrival  of  Hurlstone  at 
midnight  with  some  delegated  authority  from  Senor  Per- 
kins, and  the  unexpected  getting  under  way  of  the  ship, 
disturbed  her  complacency. 

"We  are  going  through  the  channel  into  the  bay  of 
Todos  Santos,"  was  the  brief  reply  vouchsafed  her  by 
Hurlstone. 

"  But  why  can't  we  remain  here  and  wait  for  Mr.  Brim- 
mer ?  "  she  asked  indignantly. 

"  Because,"  responded  Hurlstone  grimly,  "  the  Excel- 
sior is  expected  off  the  Presidio  to-morrow  morning 
to  aid  the  insurgents." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  Miss  Chubb  and  myself 
are  to  be  put  in  the  attitude  of  arraying  ourselves  against 
the  constituted  authorities  —  and,  perhaps,  Mr.  Brimmer 
himself  ? "  asked  Mrs.  Brimmer,  in  genuine  alarm. 

"  It  looks  so,"  said  Hurlstone,  a  little  maliciously  ; 
"  but,  no  doubt,  your  husband  and  the  Senor  will  arrange 
it  amicably." 

To  Mrs.  Markham  and  Miss  Keene  he  explained  more 
satisfactorily  that  the  unexpected  disaffection  of  the  In- 
dians had  obliged  Perkins  to  so  far  change  his  plans  as 
to  disembark  his  entire  force  from  the  Excelsior,  and 
leave  her  with  only  the  complement  of  men  necessary  to 


240         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

navigate  her  through  the  channel  of  Todos  Santos,  where 
she  would  peacefully  await  his  orders,  or  receive  his  men 
in  case  of  defeat. 

Nevertheless,  as  the  night  was  nearly  spent,  Mrs. 
Markham  and  Eleanor  preferred  to  await  the  coming  day 
on  deck,  and  watch  the  progress  of  the  Excelsior  through 
the  mysterious  channel.  In  a  few  moments  the  barque 
began  to  feel  the  combined  influence  of  the  tide  and  the 
slight  morning  breeze,  and,  after  rounding  an  invisible 
point,  she  presently  rose  and  fell  on  the  larger  ocean 
swell.  The  pilot,  whom  Hurlstone  recognized  as  the 
former  third  mate  of  the  Excelsior,  appeared  to  under- 
stand the  passage  perfectly  ;  and  even  Hurlstone  and  the 
ladies,  who  had  through  eight  months'  experience  become 
accustomed  to  the  luminous  obscurity  of  Todos  Santos, 
could  detect  the  faint  looming  of  the  headland  at  the 
entrance.  The  same  soothing  silence,  even  the  same 
lulling  of  the  unseen  surf,  which  broke  in  gentle  undula- 
tions over  the  bar,  and  seemed  to  lift  the  barque  in  rock- 
ing buoyancy  over  the  slight  obstruction,  came  back  to 
them  as  on  the  day  of  their  fateful  advent.  The  low 
orders  of  the  pilot,  the  cry  of  the  leadsman  in  the  chains, 
were  but  a  part  of  the  restful  past. 

Under  the  combined  influence  of  the  hour  and  the 
climate,  the  conversation  fell  into  monosyllables,  and 
Mrs.  Markham  dozed.  The  lovers  sat  silently  together, 
but  the  memory  of  a  kiss  was  between  them.  It  spanned 
the  gulf  of  the  past  with  an  airy  bridge,  over  which  their 
secret  thoughts  and  fancies  passed  and  repassed  with 
a  delicious  security ;  henceforth  they  could  not  flee  from 
that  memory,  even  if  they  wished ;  they  read  it  in  each 
other's  lightest  glance  ;  they  felt  it  in  the  passing  touch 
of  each  other's  hands  ;  it  lingered,  with  vague  tender- 
ness, on  the  most  trivial  interchange  of  thought.  Yet 
they  spoke  a  little  of  the  future.  Eleanor  believed  that 


Hostage.  241 

her  brother  would  not  object  to  their  union  ;  he  had 
spoken  of  entering  into  business  at  Todos  Santos,  and 
perhaps  when  peace  and  security  were  restored  they 
might  live  together.  Hurlstone  did  not  tell  her  that 
a  brief  examination  of  his  wife's  papers  had  shown  him 
that  the  property  he  had  set  aside  for  her  maintenance, 
and  from  which  she  had  regularly  drawn  an  income,  had 
increased  in  value,  and  left  him  a  rich  man.  He  only 
pressed  her  hand,  and  whispered  that  her  wishes  should 
be  his.  They  had  become  tenderly  silent  again,  as  the 
Excelsior,  now  fairly  in  the  bay,  appeared  to  be  slowly 
drifting,  with  listless  sails  and  idle  helm,  in  languid 
search  of  an  anchorage.  Suddenly  they  were  startled  by 
a  cry  from  the  lookout. 

"  Sail  ho  !  " 

There  was  an  incredulous  start  on  the  deck.  The 
mate  sprang  into  the  fore-rigging  with  an  oath  of  prot- 
estation. But  at  the  same  moment  the  tall  masts  and 
spars  of  a  vessel  suddenly  rose  like  a  phantom  out  of 
the  fog  at  their  side.  The  half  disciplined  foreign  crew 
uttered  a  cry  of  rage  and  trepidation,  and  huddled  like 
sheep  in  the  waist,  with  distracted  gestures ;  even  the 
two  men  at  the  wheel  forsook  their  post  to  run  in  dazed 
terror  to  the  taffrail.  Before  the  mate  could  restore  order 
to  this  chaos,  the  Excelsior  had  drifted,  with  a  scarcely 
perceptible  concussion,  against  the  counter  of  the  strange 
vessel.  In  an  instant  a  dozen  figures  appeared  on  its 
bulwarks,  and  dropped  unimpeded  upon  the  Excelsior's 
deck.  As  the  foremost  one  approached  the  mate,  the 
latter  shrank  back  in  consternation. 

"  Captain  Bunker  !  " 

"  Yes,"  said  the  figure,  advancing  with  a  mocking 
laugh ;  "  Captain  Bunker  it  is.  Captain  Bunker,  formerly 
of  this  American  barque  Excelsior,  and  now  of  the  Mex- 
ican ship  La  Trinidad.  Captain  Bunker  ez  larnt  every 


242         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

foot  of  that  passage  in  an  open  boat  last  August,  and 
did  n't  forget  it  yesterday  in  a  big  ship  !  Captain  Bunker 
ez  has  just  landed  a  company  of  dragoons  to  relieve  the 
Presidio.  What  d'  ye  say  to  that,  Mr.  M'Carthy  —  eh  ?  " 

"  I  say,"  answered  M'Carthy,  raising  his  voice  with  a 
desperate  effort  to  recover  his  calmness,  "I  say  that 
Perkins  landed  with  double  that  number  of  men  yester- 
day around  that  point,  and  that  he  '11  be  aboard  here  in 
half  an  hour  to  make  you  answer  for  this  insult  to  his 
ship  and  his  Government." 

"  His  Government ! "  echoed  Bunker,  with  a  hoarser 
laugh  ;  "  hear  him  !  —  his  Government !  His  Govern- 
ment died  at  four  o'clock  this  morning,  when  his  own 
ringleaders  gave  him  up  to  the  authorities.  Ha !  Why, 
this  yer  revolution  is  played  out,  old  man  ;  and  General- 
issimo Leonidas  Perkins  is  locked  up  in  the  Presidio." 


CHAPTER   IX. 

LIBERATED. 

THE  revolution  was,  indeed,  ended.  The  unexpected 
arrival  of  a  relieving  garrison  in  the  bay  of  Todos  Santos 
had  completed  what  the  dissensions  in  the  insurgents' 
councils  had  begun  ;  the  discontents,  led  by  Brace  and 
Win  slow,  had  united  with  the  Government  against  Per- 
kins and  his  aliens ;  but  a  compromise  had  been  effected 
by  the  treacherous  giving  up  of  the  Liberator  himself  in 
return  for  an  amnesty  granted  to  his  followers.  The  part 
that  Bunker  had  played  in  bringing  about  this  moral 
catastrophe  was,  however,  purely  adventitious.  When 
he  had  recovered  his  health,  and  subsequent  events  had 
corroborated  the  truth  of  his  story,  the  Mexican  Gov- 
ernment, who  had  compromised  with  Quinquinambo,  was 
obliged  to  recognize  his  claims  by  offering  him  command 
of  the  missionary  ship,  and  permission  to  rediscover  the 
channel,  the  secret  of  which  had  been  lost  for  half  a 
century  to  the  Government.  He  had  arrived  at  the 
crucial  moment  when  Perkins'  command  were  scattered 
along  the  seashore,  and  the  dragoons  had  invested  Todos 
Santos  without  opposition. 

Such  was  the  story  substantially  told  to  Hurlstone  and 
confirmed  on  his  debarkation  with  the  ladies  at  Todos 
Santos,  the  Excelsior  being  now  in  the  hands  of  the  au- 
thorities. Hurlstone  did  not  hesitate  to  express  to  Padre 
Esteban  his  disgust  at  the  treachery  which  had  made  a 
scapegoat  of  Senor  Perkins.  But  to  his  surprise  the 
cautious  priest  only  shrugged  his  shoulders  as  he  took  a 
complacent  pinch  of  snuff. 


244         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

"  Have  a  care,  Diego  !  You  are  of  necessity  grateful 
to  this  man  for  the  news  he  has  brought  —  nay,  more,  for 
possibly  being  the  instrument  elected  by  Providence  to 
precipitate  the  denouement  of  that  miserable  woman's  life 
—  but  let  it  not  close  your  eyes  to  his  infamous  political 
career.  I  admit  that  he  was  opposed  to  the  revolt  of 
the  heathen  against  us,  but  it  was  his  emissaries  and  his 
doctrines  that  poisoned  with  heresy  the  fountains  from 
which  they  drank.  Enough  !  Be  grateful !  but  do  not 
expect  me  to  intercede  for  Baal  and  Ashtaroth  !  " 

"  Intercede  !  "  echoed  Hurlstone,  alarmed  at  the  sud- 
den sacerdotal  hardness  that  had  overspread  the  old 
priest's  face.  "  Surely  the  Council  will  not  be  severe 
with  the  man  who  was  betrayed  into  their  power  by 
others  equally  guilty  ?  " 

Padre  Esteban  avoided  Hurlstone's  eyes  as  he  an- 
swered with  affected  coolness,  —  "Quien  sabe?  There 
will  be  expulsados,  no  doubt.  The  Excelsior,  which  is 
confiscated,  will  be  sent  to  Mexico  with  them." 

"  I  must  see  Sefior  Perkins,"  said  Hurlstone  sud- 
denly. 

The  priest  hesitated. 

"  When  ?  "  he  asked  cautiously. 

"  At  once." 

"  Good."  He  wrote  a  hurried  line  on  a  piece  of  paper, 
folded  it,  sealed  it,  and  gave  it  to  Hurlstone.  "  You  will 
hand  that  to  the  Comandante.  He  will  give  you  access 
to  the  prisoner." 

In  less  than  half  an  hour  Hurlstone  presented  himself 
before  the  Commander.  The  events  of  the  last  twenty- 
four  hours  had  evidently  affected  Don  Miguel,  for  al- 
though he  received  Hurlstone  courteously,  there  was  a 
singular  reflection  of  the  priest's  harshness  in  his  face  as 
he  glanced  over  the  missive.  He  took  out  his  watch. 

"  I  give  you  ten  minutes  with  the  prisoner,  Don  Diego. 
More,  I  cannot." 


Liberated.  245 

A  little  awed  by  the  manner  of  the  Commander,  Hurl- 
stone  bowed  and  followed  him  across  the  courtyard.  It 
was  filled  with  soldiers,  and  near  the  gateway  a  double 
file  of  dragoons,  with  loaded  carbines,  were  standing  at 
ease.  Two  sentries  were  ranged  on  each  side  of  an  open 
door  which  gave  upon  the  courtyard.  The  Commander 
paused  before  it,  and  with  a  gesture  invited  him  to  enter. 
It  was  a  large  square  apartment,  lighted  only  by  the  open 
door  and  a  grated  enclosure  above  it.  Seated  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves, before  a  rude  table,  Sefior  Perkins  was  quietly 
writing.  The  shadow  of  Hurlstone's  figure  falling  across 
his  paper  caused  him  to  look  up. 

Whatever  anxiety  Hurlstone  had  begun  to  feel,  it  was 
quickly  dissipated  by  the  hearty,  affable,  and  even  happy 
greeting  of  the  prisoner. 

"  Ah  !  what !  my  young  friend  Hurlstone  !  Again  an 
unexpected  pleasure,"  he  said,  extending  his  white  hands. 
"  And  again  you  find  me  wooing  the  Muse,  in,  I  fear, 
hesitating  numbers."  He  pointed  to  the  sheet  of  paper 
before  him,  which  showed  some  attempts  at  versification. 
"  But  I  confess  to  a  singular  fascination  in  the  exercise 
of  poetic  composition,  in  instants  of  leisure  like  this  —  a 
fascination  which,  as  a  man  of  imagination  yourself,  you 
can  appreciate." 

"  And  I  am  sorry  to  find  you  here,  Sefior  Perkins,"  be- 
gan Hurlstone  frankly ;  "  but  I  believe  it  will  not  be  for 
long." 

"My  opinion,"  said  the  Sefior,  with  a  glance  of  gentle 
contemplation  at  the  distant  Comandante,  "as  far  as  I 
may  express  it,  coincides  with  your  own." 

"  I  have  come,"  continued  Hurlstone  earnestly,  "  to 
offer  you  my  services.  I  am  ready,"  he  raised  his  voice, 
with  a  view  of  being  overheard,  "  to  bear  testimony  that 
you  had  no  complicity  in  the  baser  part  of  the  late  con- 
spiracy, —  the  revolt  of  the  savages,  and  that  you  did  your 


246         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

best  to  counteract  the  evil,  although  in  doing  so  you  have 
sacrificed  yourself.  I  shall  claim  the  right  to  speak  from 
my  own  knowledge  of  the  Indians  and  from  their  admis- 
sion to  me  that  they  were  led  away  by  the  vague  repre- 
sentations of  Martinez,  Brace,  and  Winslow." 

"  Pardon  —  pardon  me,"  said  Senor  Perkins  deprecat- 
ingly,  "you  are  mistaken.  My  general  instructions,  no 
doubt,  justified  these  young  gentlemen  in  taking,  I  shall 
not  say  extreme,  but  injudicious  measures."  He  glanced 
meaningly  in  the  direction  of  the  Commander,  as  if  to 
warn  Hurlstone  from  continuing,  and  said  gently,  "  But 
let  us  talk  of  something  else.  I  thank  you  for  your 
gracious  intentions,  but  you  remember  that  we  agreed 
only  yesterday  that  you  knew  nothing  of  politics,  and  did 
not  concern  yourself  with  them.  I  do  not  know  but  you 
are  wise.  Politics  and  the  science  of  self-government, 
although  dealing  with  general  principles,  is  apt  to  be 
defined  by  the  individual  limitations  of  the  enthusiast. 
What  is  good  for  himself "he  too  often  deems  is  applicable 
to  the  general  public,  instead  of  wisely  understanding  that 
which  is  good  for  them  must  be  good  for  himself.  But," 
said  the  Sefior  lightly,  "  we  are  again  transgressing.  We 
were  to  choose  another  topic.  Let  it  be  yourself,  Mr. 
Hurlstone.  You  are  looking  well,  sir ;  indeed,  I  may  say 
I  never  saw  you  looking  so  well !  Let  me  congratulate 
you.  Health  is  the  right  of  youth.  May  you  keep 
both!" 

He  shook  Hurlstone's  hand  again  with  singular  fervor. 

There  was  a  slight  bustle  and  commotion  at  the  door 
of  the  guard-room,  and  the  Commander's  attention  was 
called  in  that  direction.  Hurlstone  profited  by  the  op- 
portunity to  say  in  a  hurried  whisper  : 

"  Tell  me  what  I  can  do  for  you ; "  and  he  hesitated  to 
voice  his  renewed  uneasiness  —  "  tell  me  —  if  —  if  —  if  — 
your  case  is  —  urgent !  " 


Liberated.  247 

Senor  Perkins  lifted  his  shoulders  and  smiled  with 
grateful  benevolence. 

"  You  have  already  promised  me  to  deliver  those  pa- 
pers and  manuscript  of  my  deceased  friend,  and  to  en- 
deavor to  find  her  relations.  I  do  not  think  it  is  urgent, 
however." 

"  I  do  not  mean  that,"  said  Hurlstone  eagerly.  "  I "  — 
but  Perkins  stopped  him  with  a  sign  that  the  Commander 
was  returning. 

Don  Miguel  approached  them  with  disturbed  and  anx- 
ious looks. 

"  I  have  yielded  to  the  persuasions  of  two  ladies,  Dona 
Leonor  and  the  Senora  Markham,  to  ask  you  to  see  them 
for  a  moment,"  he  said  to  Senor  Perkins.  "  Shall  it  be 
so  ?  I  have  told  them  the  hour  is  nearly  spent." 

"You  have  told  them  —  nothing  more?"  asked  the 
Senor,  in  a  whisper  unheard  by  Hurlstone. 

"  No." 

"  Let  them  come,  then." 

The  Commander  made  a  gesture  to  the  sentries  at  the 
guard-room,  who  drew  back  to  allow  Mrs.  Markham  and 
Eleanor  to  pass.  A  little  child,  one  of  Eleanor's  old 
Presidio  pupils,  who,  recognizing  her,  had  followed  her 
into  the  guard-room,  now  emerged  with  her,  and  momen- 
tarily disconcerted  at  the  presence  of  the  Commander, 
ran,  with  the  unerring  instinct  of  childhood,  to  the  Senor 
for  protection.  The  filibuster  smiled,  and  lifting  the  child 
with  a  paternal  gesture  to  his  shoulder  by  one  hand,  he 
extended  the  other  to  the  ladies. 

"  The  Commander,"  said  Mrs.  Markham  briskly,  "  says 
it 's  against  the  rules ;  that  visiting  time  is  up ;  and 
you  've  already  got  a  friend  with  you,  and  all  that  sort  of 
thing;  but  I  told  him  that  I  was  bound  to  see  you,  if 
only  to  say  that  if  there  's  any  meanness  going  on,  Su- 
sannah and  James  Markham  ain't  in  it !  No  !  But  we  're 


248         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

going  to  see  you  put  right  and  square  in  the  matter ;  and 
if  we  can't  do  it  here,  we  '11  do  it,  if  we  have  to  follow 
you  to  Mexico  !  —  that 's  all ! " 

"  And  I,"  said  Eleanor,  grasping  the  Senor's  hand,  and 
half  blushing  as  she  glanced  at  Hurlstone,  "see  that  I 
have  already  a  friend  here  who  will  help  me  to  put  in 
action  all  the  sympathy  I  feel." 

Senor  Perkins  drew  himself  up,  and  cast  a  faint  look 
of  pride  towards  the  Commander. 

"  To  hear  such  assurances  from  beautiful  and  eloquent 
lips  like  those  before  me,"  he  said,  with  his  old  oratorical 
wave  of  the  hand,  but  a  passing  shadow  across  his  mild 
eyes,  "  is  more  than  sufficient.  In  my  experience  of  life 
I  have  been  favored,  at  various  emergencies,  by  the  sym- 
pathy and  outspoken  counsel  of  your  noble  sex ;  the  last 
time  by  Mrs.  Euphemia  M'Corkle,  of  Peoria,  Illinois,  a 
lacly  of  whom  you  have  heard  me  speak  —  alas  !  now 
lately  deceased.  A  few  lines  at  present  lying  on  yonder 
table  —  a  tribute  to  her  genius  —  will  be  forwarded  to 
you,  dear  Mrs.  Markham.  But  let  us  change  the  theme. 
You  are  looking  well  —  and  you,  too,  Miss  Keene.  From 
the  roses  that  bloom  on  your  cheeks  —  nourished  by  the 
humid  air  of  Todos  Santos  —  I  am  gratified  in  thinking 
you  have  forgiven  me  your  enforced  detention  here." 

At  a  gesture  from  the  Commander  he  ceased,  stepped 
back,  bowed  gravely,  and  the  ladies  recognized  that  their 
brief  audience  had  terminated.  As  they  passed  through 
the  gateway,  looking  back  they  saw  Perkins  still  standing 
with  the  child  on  his  shoulder  and  smiling  affably  upon 
them.  Then  the  two  massive  doors  of  the  gateway  swung 
to  with  a  crash,  the  bolts  were  shot,  and  the  courtyard 
was  impenetrable. 

A  few  moments  later,  the  three  friends  had  passed  the 
outermost  angle  of  the  fortifications,  and  were  descending 


Liberated.  249 

towards  the  beach.  By  the  time  they  had  reached  the 
sands  they  had  fallen  into  a  vague  silence. 

A  noise  like  the  cracking  and  fall  of  some  slight  scaf- 
folding behind  them  arrested  their  attention.  Hurlstone 
turned  quickly.  A  light  smoke,  drifting  from  the  court- 
yard, was  mingling  with  the  fog.  A  faint  cry  of  "  Dios 
y  Libertad  !  "  rose  with  it. 

With  a  hurried  excuse  to  his  companions,  Hurlstone 
ran  rapidly  back,  and  reached  the  gate  as  it  slowly 
rolled  upon  its  hinges  to  a  file  of  men  that  issued  from 
the  courtyard.  The  first  object  that  met  his  eyes  was  the 
hat  of  Senor  Perkins  lying  on  the  ground  near  the  wall, 
with  a  terrible  suggestion  in  its  helpless  and  pathetic 
vacuity.  A  few  paces  further  lay  its  late  owner,  with 
twenty  Mexican  bullets  in  his  breast,  his  benevolent  fore- 
head bared  meekly  to  the  sky,  as  if  even  then  mutely 
appealing  to  the  higher  judgment.  He  was  dead  !  The 
soul  of  the  Liberator  of  Quinquinambo,  and  of  various 
other  peoples  more  or  less  distressed  and  more  or  less 
ungrateful,  was  itself  liberated  ! 

With  the  death  of  Senor  Perkins  ended  the  Crusade 
of  the  Excelsior.  Under  charge  of  Captain  Bunker  the 
vessel  was  sent  to  Mazatlan  by  the  authorities,  bearing 
the  banished  and  proscribed  Americans,  Banks,  Brace, 
Winslow,  and  Crosby ;  and,  by  permission  of  the  Council, 
also  their  friends,  Markham  and  Brimmer,  and  the  ladies, 
Mrs.  Brimmer,  Chubb,  and  Markham.  Hurlstone  and 
Miss  Keene  alone  were  invited  to  remain,  but,  on  later 
representations,  the  Council  graciously  included  Richard 
Keene  in  the  invitation,  with  the  concession  of  the  right  to 
work  the  mines  and  control  the  ranches  he  and  Hurlstone 
had  purchased  from  their  proscribed  countrymen.  The 
complacency  of  the  Council  of  Todos  Santos  may  be 
accounted  for  when  it  is  understood  that  on  the  day  the 


250         The  Crusade  of  the  Excelsior. 

firm  of  Hurlstone  &  Keene  was  really  begun  under  the 
title  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hurlstone,  Richard  had  prevailed 
upon  the  Alcalde  to  allow  him  to  add  the  piquant  Dona 
Isabel  also  to  the  firm  under  the  title  of  Mrs.  Keene. 
Although  the  port  of  Todos  Santos  was  henceforth  open 
to  all  commerce,  the  firm  of  Hurlstone  &  Keene  long 
retained  the  monopoly  of  trade,  and  was  a  recognized 
power  of  intelligent  civilization  and  honest  progress  on 
the  Pacific  coast.  And  none  contributed  more  to  that 
result  than  the  clever  and  beautiful  hostess  of  Excelsior 
Lodge,  the  charming  country  home  of  James  Hurlstone, 
Esq.,  senior  partner  of  the  firm.  Under  the  truly  catho- 
lic shelter  of  its  veranda  Padre  Esteban  and  the  heretic 
stranger  mingled  harmoniously,  and  the  dissensions  of 
local  and  central  Government  were  forgotten. 

"  I  said  that  you  were  a  dama  de  grandeza,  you  remem- 
ber," said  the  youthful  Mrs.  Keene  to  Mrs.  Hurlstone, 
"  and,  you  see,  you  are !  " 


2Uot*js  of  fiction 

PUBLISHED   BY 

HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  AND  COMPANY, 

4  PARK  ST.,  BOSTON  ;  11  E.  I;TH  ST.,  NEW  YORK. 


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Ivanhoe  Tales. 

The  Monastery.  Woodstock. 

The  Abbot.  The  Fair  Maid  of  Perth. 

Kenilworth.  Anne  of  Geierstein. 

The  Pirate.  Count  Robert  of  Paris. 

The  Fortunes  of  Nigel.  The  Surgeon's  Daughter, 

Peveril  of  the  Peak.  and  Castle  Dangerous. 

Quentin  Durward. 

Each  volume i.oo 

The  set 25.00 

Tales  of  a  Grandfather.  Illustrated  Library  Edition. 
With  six  steel  plates.  In  three  volumes,  12  mo  .  .  4.50 

Ivanhoe.     Popular  Edition.     I2mo I.OO 

Horace  E.  Scudder. 

The  Dwellers  in  Five-Sisters'  Court.     l6mo  ....  1.25 

Stories  and  Romances.     i6mo 1.25 

The  Children's   Book.     Edited   by  MR.   SCUDDER. 

Small  4to 2.50 

Mark  Sibley  Severance. 

Hammersmith :  His  Harvard  Days.     I2mo   ....     1.50 

J.  E.  Smith. 

Oakridge  :  An  Old-Time  Story  of  Maine.     I2mo    .    .     2.00 

Mary  A.  Sprague. 

An  Earnest  Trifler.     i6mo 1.25 

William  W.  Story. 

Fiammetta.     i6mo 1.25 


12  Works  of  Fiction. 

Harriet  Beecner  Stowe. 

Agnes  of  Sorrento.     I2mo $1.50 

The  Pearl  of  Orr's  Island.     I2mo 1.50 

Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.     Illustrated  Edition.     I2mo  .     .  2.00 

The  Minister's  Wooing.     i2mo 50 

The  Mayflower,  and  Other  Sketches.     I2mo      ...  .50 

Dred.     New  Edition,  from  new  plates.     I2mo   ...  .50 

Oldtown  Folks.     I2mo 50 

Sam  Lawson's  Fireside  Stories.     I2mo 50 

My  Wife  and  I.     Illustrated.     I2mo 50 

We  and  Our  Neighbors.     Illustrated.     I2mo     ...  .50 

Poganuc  People.     Illustrated.     I2mo 50 

The  above  eleven  volumes,  in  box 16.00 

Uncle  Tom's  Cabin.     Holiday  Edition.     With  Intro- 
duction, and  Bibliography  by  George  Bullen,  of  the 

British  Museum.     Over  100  Illustrations.     I2mo     .  3.00 

The  Same.     Popular  Edition.     I2mo i.oo 

Gen.  Lew  Wallace. 

The  Fair  God ;  or,  The  Last  of  the  'Tzins.     I2mo  .  1.50 

Henry  Watterson. 

Oddities  in  Southern  Life.    Illustrated.     i6mo  .    .     .  1.50 
Richard  Grant  White. 

The  Fate  of  Mansfield  Humphreys,  with  the  Episode 

of  Mr.  Washington  Adams  in  England.     i6mo      .  1.25 

Adeline  D.  T.  Whitney. 

Faith  Gartney's  Girlhood.     Illustrated.     I2mo  .    .     .  1.50 

Hitherto:  A  Story  of  Yesterdays.     I2mo      ....  1.50 

Patience  Strong's  Outings.     I2tno 1.50 

The  Gayworthys.     I2mo 1.50 

Leslie  Goldthwaite.     Illustrated.     I2mo 1.50 

We  Girls :  A  Home  Story.     Illustrated.     I2mo    .    .  1.50 

Real  Folks.     Illustrated.     I2mo 1.50 

The  Other  Girls.     Illustrated.     I2mo 1.50 

Sights  and  Insights.     2  vols.  I2mo    .......  3.00 

Odd,  or  Even  ?     I2mo 1.50 

Boys  at  Chequasset.     Illustrated.     I2mo 1.50 

Bonny  borough.     I2mo 1.50 

Homespun  Yarns.     Short  Stories 1.50 

Lillie  Chace  Wyman. 

Poverty  Grass.     i6mo 1.25 


